Monsters in the Dark
by Sheila13
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts did not go as expected. Harry and the Order escaped but Ron was killed and Hermione was taken to Riddle Manor and bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Voldemort gives the notorious werewolf Hermione as a gift. However, the stubborn and fiery witch is not one to cave easily. Yet Fenrir is mysteriously drawn to the young witch and as much as she hates it, she is too.
1. Chapter 1 (12-11 13:10:44)

Chapter 1

Hermione whimpered as the Death Eater with his large hand wrapped around her throat, stabbed his wand into her chest threateningly. Harry's eyes were a pool of conflict, flickering between Hermione and Ron, both locked in a smirking Death Eater's grip, to Dumbledore and the Order, surrounded helplessly.

Voldemort smirked down at the cornered Order, his delicate, snake-like fingers brushing up and down the walls of Hogwarts possesively. "Give up," he murmured. "You're surrounded. And even if you get away we have these two," his long, white fingers pointed to the captured Hermione and Ron. He smiled, "We'll know everything they know with only a couple curses."

Ron yelled and tried to jerk out of his captors grip. The fear in his eyes at the implication of torture was evident to all around. Voldemort smirked while Dumbledore closed his eyes and heaved a mournful sigh. Both men knew Ron wouldn't last long, giving the Death Eaters all they wanted to save himself from torture.

Voldemort turned back to the Order, a smile on his face as he opened his pale, graceful hand in a welcoming gesture. "Save yourself the trouble. You know the pain and fear that comes from hiding. Let go. Embrace the inevitable." Hermione shook in fear. Voldemort' voice was soft and murmuring, lulling the listeners into a false security, tugging at their mind to obey his orders. At the same time there was an maliciousness evident. Telling them he was not one to be crossed.

The Order glanced between each other before focusing on Dumbledore. He opened his eyes and gave the two captives a mournful look. "I'm sorry you two, but you know too much. It's for the best."

He threw two spells, one towards Ron, the other towards Hermione, before casting a massive apparition spell around the Order and Harry. The Death Eaters roared and charged but they were thrown into the destroyed walls of Hogwarts by the massive, brilliant red flash of magic.

The Death Eater holding Ron yelled and dropped the redhead. The spell had hit Ron in the throat, severing his head from his body in an immediate decapitation. In the midst of the insanity Hermione had turned away from the spell, but the arms of the Death Eater had trapped her. The spell slammed into her side. A ragged scream tore from her throat as a long, deep gash ripped into her side and across the side of her chest. Blood began pouring from the wound as the Death Eaters pulled themselves to their feet after the explosive magic.

A shriek of fury ripped from Voldemort's throat. He whipped his wand out and threw a painful curse at the Death Eater closest to where the Order had been. The man fell to the ground as bolts of electricity sparked around his body, ripping his skin away until he lay still, leaving the muscles of his body visable.

Voldemort hissed in anger, rubbing a long, graceful hand over his eyes. Dropping his hand he whirled around, black cloak flaring behind him. "To the courtyard! And bring the bloodtraitor's body!" The Death Eaters followed behind their master silently. The Death Eater who had held Ron picked up his body before grabbing the head by its red hair. Hermione gave a sob at the blank, fearful expression that would permanently remain on her friend's face.

The Death Eater holding her grabbed her waist and threw her over his shoulder. She gave a cry of pain but the Death Eater ignore her as he followed his fellows. The blood from her chest and side began running down her body to her shoulder before dropping onto the floor. Hermione's eyes watched as her crimson blood splashed across the dust covered floor, dropped onto chucks of the wall, mixing with the black singe mark of a spell.

As they entered the courtyard the Death Eaters formed a circle around the remaining, injured Hogwarts students. Ron's body and head were flung onto the pile of dead bodies. The Death Eater holding Hermione threw her to the ground. She cried out as her hip slammed into chuck of the castle. Her side flared angrily as a cloud of dust rose at the movement, dirt and dust entering the still bleeding gash in her side. There was a fearful whimper from the crowd before a pair of ragged jeans came into view. Looking up the brunette's eyes locked with the weeping blue gaze of Ginny Weasley.

The girl grabbed Hermione's arm and hoisted her to her feet. Gritting her teeth, the injured witch straightened and stiffly walked towards the group of students. She took a place next to the furious and battle-worn Neville who gave her a brave grin. "What are we going to do Hermione?" He bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes sparkling from the fight. "I'm ready to bash some Death Eater noses in!" Several surrounding Death Eaters raised their wands threateningly.

The high laugh of Voldemort called everyone's attention. "Oh the brave Longbottom. He should be fun to break." He smiled before reaching an elegant white hand to point out several students. "Weasly, Longbottom, Lovegood, Finnigan, Lee," his grin widened. "And Granger. Who could forget Granger." Death Eaters stepped forward and grabbed the named students pulling them away from the others.

Neville swung a heavy fist at his Death Eater, knocking the masked figure back, clutching their nose. With a sigh and the flick of his wand, Voldemort chained Neville for another Death Eater to grab. Shaking his head he watched as the group was separated.

Several still moments passed, broken only by the heavy breathing of the students and Neville's grunts as he tried to pull out of the chains. The Dark Lord seemed to be contemplating something. Suddenly a sadistic grin spread across his face. "Starting with the highest rank, each of my loyal followers may choose a student to do with whatever they wish. Any remaining will be second pick for the higher ranks."

Voldemort watched in amusement as the students cried out, clinging to friends, lovers, and family as they were dragged away by his followers.

As the last cries of protest died Voldemort raised his voice. "The names I selected as well as their holders will be coming with me to Riddle Manor. The rest of you..." he paused to glance around, his red eyes gleaming with perverted amusement. "Have fun!"

Cries went up again as the cloaked figures began disapperating with their new prisoners. Voldemort beckoned as the lower ranking followers disappeared.

"Fenrir." Hermione watched as the hulking figure of the notorious werewolf moved towards the small group. His long legs moved with an animalistic grace, the smooth slink of a predator. Dropping to his knee in front of the Dark Lord, his long dark hair fell across his face.

"What can I do to serve you, my Lord?" His voice was low and deep, smooth as bourbon with a vibrating roughness towards the end. It sent shivers down Hermione's back, whether from fear or from intrigue she wasn't sure.

Voldemort touched a graceful, pale hand to the werewolf's shoulder. "You will be coming with us. I have a special gift for you once I'm done." The snake-like man smirked before removing his hand and apperating. The others followed soon after. Hermione was thrown to her knees as soon as they touched ground. She bit down on her lip as her wound gave another gush of blood at the sudden movement. Dropping her head, Hermione fought the nausea swirling at the base of her stomach. The others were thrown to their knees as well, Neville collapsing gracelessly into his side due to the chains still holding him. The young man began throwing colorful, foul mouthed words at the Death Eaters.

A deep chuckle sounded from Fenrir. Hermione turned her head to look at the ferocious werewolf, eyes narrowing as she took him in. He was leaning against a wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest, one ankle slung over the other as he lounged on the wall. His head turned and their eyes locked. He snarled at her, expecting the girl to flinch. Instead, Hermione bared her own teeth meeting the werewolf's stare unblinkingly.

Their gazes flew to Voldemort as he glided towards the students, long fingers playing dangerously with his wand. "Now, the real fun begins."

Ginny lay unconscious in a pool of her own blood, Seamus was whimpering as his body continued to spasm, Neville and Luna lay against each other, both staring into nothing as their bodies shook with spells. Lee lay dead at Voldemort's feet, his eyes glassy and body broken. Hermione was screaming as another Crucio was sent her way. Voldemort laughed high and cold as the girl shook on the ground. He let go of the spell and crouched down to watch. The witch had taken some of the worst spells and yet continued to defy him. But this last Crucio must have broken her.

Voldemort giggled to himself in sheer pleasure. Then movement melted the smile from his cold, white face. Hermione's arms shook as she pushed herself up. Lifting her head, she blew away several of her wild curls to meet Voldemort's cruel red gaze.

She smiled before spitting in his face. Blood and saliva slid down the Dark Lord's cheek, some of it gathering on the corner of his thin lips. The girl smirked. "Look whose got Mudblood on his face."

Voldemort let out a scream of fury. Lifting his wand he threw spell after spell. Hermione's screams bounced off the walls, echoing in the air around them. Luna was shaking and sobbing into Neville's shoulder.

With a furious hiss, Voldemort pointed a long finger towards Greyback. "You! Come here!" Greyback approached his eyes wary as he took in Voldemort's fury as well as the witch's form. Her body seized in spasms, her hands clawing at her arms and the floor.

Voldemort turned to the werewolf and muttered "Imperio". A film washed over Greyback's eyes as his mind was shoved behind a wall, able to watch yet not act. "Transform," the madman hissed. Greyback could do nothing to stop himself as his body melted into a four foot wolf. His midnight black coat rippled with muscle as he prowled forward.

Voldemort bared his teeth as he flicked his wand. Greyback shot forward, crashing his weight onto Hermione's chest. One of his massive paws dig into the gash that stretched to her chest. She gave a strangled cry as the werewolf's weight pressed down onto the open wound. Voldemort gave a vicious wave. Greyback launched forward, his dagger-like teeth locking onto Hermione's shoulder. She screamed as the werewolf's jaws closed tighter, clamping onto her shoulder bone as well as her flesh.

Greyback could feel the bone groaning under his jaw's pressure. The werewolf venom leeked from his teeth, seeping into her flesh and blood. Before anymore damage could be done Voldemort dispersed the spell. Greyback's mind flooded back to his brain. The wolf's glassy eyes cleared, turning from a milky white to a rich, April blue. Ever so carefully, the wolf released his jaws and pulled back.

Hermione sucked in a harsh breath as his teeth pulled out of her body, an awful sucking noise popping into the still air. Thick, creamy strands of saliva and venom ran down the wolf's jaws, sticking to his midnight black pelt.

Voldemort let out a high shriek of joy, clapping his hands together in exclamation. Hermione lay panting on the marble floor, body still quivering slightly from the spells, blood seeping onto the floor below her. Her eyes flicked back and forth, lids barely open. The massive wolf tilted his head, watching as the blood dripped from her shoulder. His tongue unconsciously swiped at his gleaming teeth, the taste of her blood sending shivers through his massive shoulders.

Voldemort turned with a wicked grin to his followers. "Take your pick. But leave the Mudblood." His head snaked back to the figure laying on the floor. His neck cracked as his head tilted to look at her. "This one goes with my loyal pet." The wolf's clear eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the title. Greyback shifted back, eyes never moving from the figure on the floor. Voldemort waved his slender, pale hand. "Go on, take her! She's yours."

Greyback knelt to the Dark Lord before walking to the half-conscious witch. Grabbing her limp body, the werewolf flung her onto his shoulder. The back of her jacket was soaked through with blood. The thick, iron smell of her blood filled his sensitive nostrils. There was something sweet about it ... Shaking his head, the werewolf turned and apperated away.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hermione gave a hoarse cry as Greyback lowered her limp body onto a pile of furs. Her body ached, her side and chest snarling angrily at the movements. It was a marathon of energy to open her closed eyes. The lids seemed to believe it their mission to remain closed. Just as she was about to give up, massive, strong hands began pulling at her torn and dirty clothes. Fury roared in her chest. Her eyes snapped open and she threw her fist with all her strength.

A snarl rewarded the witch as she watched Greyback's body jerk backwards, his hand massaging his jaw. He rolled his jaw back and forth, fingers messaging the reddened flesh. His eyes snapped to the witch slumped over her own body, arms shaking as she braced her weight. Her furious eyes met his and she bared her teeth. 

"Keep your filthy hands off of me!" She snarled out. Her wild, chocolate curls fell over her uninjured shoulder. The fabric of her jacket had been ripped away baring the deep, bloody punctures to the frigid winter air. 

Greyback's hand dropped and he growled animalisticly at the witch. "You're injured! I could smell the blood a mile away! If you were alone my pack would've already found you and been ripping into your flesh." 

Hermione bared her teeth. "You forget who you're talking too, pet. Isn't that your master's name for you?" Her voice practically dripped with contempt. 

Greyback snarled and his hand shot out to grip Hermione's throat. His nails lengthened into claws in his anger. He squeezed her throat, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. "At least it's a title unlike you Mudblood. Either way you're nothing to anybody. Just a freak of nature, an _accidental_ gift." He could smell the hurt eminating from her chest. 

With a yell Hermione kicked her leg, slamming into the werewolf's stomach. The man doubled over, hand loosening in her neck. In a split second Hermione had wrapped her legs around the werewolf's middle and threw him to the ground. She landed on top of him, hand wrapped in his long locks as she pulled his head, baring his neck to view. A dagger point dug into Fenrir's flesh. A tense moment stretched out, Hermione's heavy, angry breathing the only sound in the room. 

She sneered in the werewolf's face. " _No_ _one_ calls me that name unless they want their head separated from their shoulders," her blazing eyes glared into Greyback's clear blue orbs as she murmured harshly. "Don't forget, pet," she spat the word. "You're messing with one part of the golden trio, the one that knows the most spells and knows how to protect herself. I wouldn't try anything." She pressed the dagger deeper into his flesh. 

A sharp, iron scent with an underlying sweetness filled his nostrils. Hermione's body tensed on top of his before she pulled the dagger back, slipping it into the sheath under her shirt. With a grimace she slid off of the man, slumping in a heap against the mattress. Her hand wrapped around her stomach as she curled in on herself. 

Greyback pulled himself into a sitting position, watching the witch warily. He would get her back for what she had done but at the moment he was preoccupied with the girl's draining color. Her flushed cheeks had turned pale, her hands shaking against her body and the floor. Reaching forward, he pulled the witch into his arms. She opened her mouth to protest but the energy seemed to drain out of her. 

Still carrying Hermione, the werewolf climbed onto the mattress. Settling himself among the furs, he gently lay the witch next to him. 

Her eyes watched him warily, but exhaustion was evident in her face. "I won't touch you," Greyback grumbled. Hermione arched an elegant eyebrow in disbelief. Greyback snarled at her. "You choose to bleed out then fine! Not my problem!" He crossed his strong arms over his broad chest, staring angrily at a chuck of wall. Hermione watched him for several seconds, uncertainty and common sense yelling at her to stay awake, but the blood loss, devastation, torture, and exhaustion pulled a black film over her eyes. With a sigh she gave into the blackness, letting unconsciousness rock her in its arms. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Landon watched his Alpha curiously. The entire pack knew there was an injured female in their territory, the blood scent was so heavy, but Fenrir had forbidden them to look for the source. They were also curious as to what had caused the purple bruise that blossomed along his jaw. He explained that it was a new member of the pack given to them by Voldemort, however, due to complications, they would first meet her at the full moon in a week. The notion of Voldemort giving them a member seemed enough to explain the bruise to most of the pack. However, there had been cries of protest from the werewolves, the blood and weakness stirring their primal need to attack injured intruders. Nevertheless, Fenrir had been adamant and eventually the pack accepted the orders, though not without grumbling. 

As the pack began to slink back, Fenrir called Landon to his side. "As Beta, I feel you should know what's going on." There was a pause as the Alpha watched as his pack retreated. "Also I need somebody to keep me from killing her myself out of annoyance." 

Landon chuckled. "Is she really that difficult? Surely the great Alpha Fenrir can handle a tiny human female? Who is _also_ injured? Was it her that gave you that bruise?" 

Fenrir met Landon's amused look with a glare. "Just follow me and you'll see." 

As the two werwolves made their way to the small cabin, Landon continually pressed for answers on the troublesome female that took so much out of the Alpha. Fenrir just grumbled in answer. As they neared the cabin, Landon's amusement dropped. He threw Fenrir a look. "That much blood is not good. What happened?" 

Fenrir shrugged. "I bit her but that was only a small wound. It seems she was already injured before I got her." Landon hurried to the cabin door and gently eased it open. Fenrir followed, watching carefully. 

Landon quietly slid into the single room cabin, closing the door behind Fenrir as the Alpha settled himself against the wall. The tall, lean Beta sat himself gently on the bed. His eyes scanned her curled body before resting in the thick mat of dirt, blood, and fabric on her side. Reaching out, his fingers gripped the bottom of the girl's shirt. Ever so gently he began peeling the blood soaked cloth from the girl's skin. 

The fabric caught at the bottom of the slice, movement, dirt, and blood having suctioned the fabric into the wound. With a grimace Landon began trying to work the fabric out. There was a sucking noise as the fabric jerked out of the wound, pulling it roughly from its fitted place. The girl screamed in pain and in an instant Landon was on the floor, his nose bleeding and his chest aching as a furious witch roared above him. Fenrir pushed off the wall with a booming laugh and moved to Landon's side, offering a massive hand. The Alpha pulled the man to his feet, steadying him as Landon stared at the witch who had sunk back onto the bed, teeth bared and snarling animalisticly. 

"Well," the Landon's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "At least she's embracing the wolf." Fenrir arched an eyebrow before leaning against the cabin wall, arms crossed, eyes watching Hermione. Landon shook himself before inching his way to the bed and settling himself down onto it. 

He turned to Hermione and offered a smile. "I'm sorry about that. I was only trying to remove the fabric from the wound." 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?" 

Landon smiled. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Landon, the Beta of this pack. I must say your speed and strength, even while injured, are quite incredible." His hand pressed against his chest, rubbing where her foot had impacted. 

Hermione's features smoothed and she gave a small smile. "Thank you. I apologize for that, it was just instinct. I hope I didn't hurt you too much." 

Landon shook his head. "No, no quite alright. Trust me I've had worse to get to this position." He smiled warmly at the witch. She smiled back. 

Fenrir looked between the two of them, incredulously. "What the fuck just happened?!" 

Landon turned to his Alpha with a laugh. "I think I just made a friend." 

Hermione smiled at the Beta before turning smugly to Fenrir. " _Some_ people have manners. Do I need to define manners for you?" 

Fenrir snarled viciously but Hermione returned it just as fiercely. Landon's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline at the encounter. A tense moment passed. "Ohh-kay!" Landon awkwardly clapped. "Now that _that's_ out of the way," he shook his head and turned a concerned eye on Hermione. "I really need to remove your clothes. The fabric is already sticking to the wound and we need to remove it before it gets worse." 

Hermione studied the man before nodding. Landon scooted till Hermione sat between his legs. He studied the dirty wound. Dried blood, dirt, and torn fabric mixed together in a gruesome bandage over the wound. Landon bared his teeth in a grimace. "Alpha, I'm going to need your help." Hermione's eyes flew to Fenrir as the man pushed off the wall and approached the bed. Landon gestured to the bed. "I'm going to need you to hold this lady's hand. This isn't going to be fun." 

Fenrir growled low in his throat before complying, settling his big body next to Hermione's. Landon nodded before lifting his gaze to meet Hermione's eyes. "Now I'm going to have you give the Alpha your hands," she narrowed her eyes, a low rumble of disapproval sounding in her chest. Landon raised an eyebrow. "This is going to hurt and I don't want to have my eye clawed out while I'm helping you." 

Hermione sighed and glared at Fenrir as she placed her hands into his massive, strong ones. 

Landon nodded. "Okay, Alpha, you're going to wrap your hands around hers so she can't pull out." Fenrir did so, holding her hands tight enough to secure them, but not so much as to bruise her wrists. Landon nodded again and took a deep breath. "Okay, here we go." He began to gently pull the jacket away from her shoulders. Shifting his nails till they were claws, Landon cut away the jacket, leaving a piece surrounding the part stuck to her flesh. 

He reached up again and cut away Hermione's shirt, leaving her in a black bra. Cutting away a square around the wound, Landon threw away the torn material, taking a breath as he inspected the wound. Two rectangular squares of fabric, one on top of the other, were stuck in place by the wound. Blood covered Hermione's sides and back, the crimson color standing out against her creamy skin. Landon's eyes fixed on the girl's left arm, eyes widening at the childish scrawl etched into her skin, reading 'Mudblood'. The Beta's eyes lifted to Fenrir's. The Alpha looked tense, jaw clenching at the words. 

Landon shook his shoulders, reaching under the bed to pull out several clean rags. "Ready?" Hermione shifted around before nodding. Her lips were pressed in a tight line, her eyes closing as she braced herself. Inside of Fenrir's massive palms, her hands shook ever so slightly. Fenrir squeezed her hands gently. 

"One, two, three!" Landon began peeling the fabric away from the wound. Hermione's teeth clamped down on her lip as a wail of pain rose in her throat. 

Landon breathed hard as he cleared the bottom of the wound. Fresh blood began spilling out of the fresh opening. Pressing a rag to the bottom, he looked up as Hermione gasped, the rag digging into the sliced flesh. As the blood began to slow, Landon removed the rag and began peeling upwards, trying to gently work the fabric out. Hermione's hands and legs jerked as a hoarse scream of pain tore from her throat. Instinctively, she began trying to pull away, her legs squirming to push the cause of the pain away from her. Fenrir growled and hooked his legs around her waist, pinning her thighs under his as she continued to struggle. 

As Landon continued peeling the fabric from the wound, Hermione's breathing became heavier and heavier as a painfilled panic clouded over her mind. "Stop, Stop!" She screamed, trying to jerk out of both men's grips. "Stop!" 

Fenrir snarled at Landon, who froze at that sound. Fenrir turned to Hermione's sobbing, panicked face. "Hermione!" His roar of her name froze the girl, her eyes flicking up to meet his clear blue gaze. "Do you trust me?" He rumbled. 

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "No!" She sobbed. 

Fenrir rolled his eyes. "Okay, rephrasing the question. Do I know more than you-- On this topic that is!" He quickly finished as Hermione opened her mouth to object. Reluctantly she nodded, her eyes dropping to his chest. Fenrir pulled her hands, snapping her head up to meet his eyes again. "Then trust me with this." 

Her eyes narrowed, studying his clear blue gaze for any sign of dishonesty. Finally, with a sigh, she nodded. 

Fenrir nodded sharply. Pulling her close, Fenrir lowered his mouth to her shoulder. He latched his teeth into the same puncture marks that covered her shoulder. Hermione shrieked in pain, jerking to get out of the werewolf's grip. 

Landon yelled, "Fenrir! That only works with-!" But he stopped as the witch's cries died and she stopped struggling. Her features relaxed, and she slumped forward to lean her head on Fenrir's broad shoulder. Breathing calmed, eyes closed, Hermione sighed and rubbed her cheek on Fenrir's shoulder. 

The Alpha snarled at his Beta. ' _Keep_ _going_!' Landon shook away his shock and began working again. It was slow, gruesome work, peeling away the mat of fabric, blood, and muck only to press a rag to the wound as fresh blood poured out of it. Every now and then a whimper sounded from Hermione as a particularly painful piece was pulled away or the rag pressed harshly into the torn, angry skin. Fenrir kept his teeth in her shoulder, gently pressing and releasing when she cried out. 

After what seemed like forever, the last of the fabric was peeled away. Hermione gave a single whimper of pain at the last tug of flesh before relaxing against Fenrir's shoulder. Landon sighed in relief at the task's end, pressing a bloody rag to the last flow of blood. Fenrir opened his jaws and released the witch's shoulder, gently licking the wounds to heal them. Landon pulled away the rag, dropping it onto the floor next to the fabric square. 

Pulling himself to his feet, Landon rolled and stretched out his shoulders. Fenrir pulled his legs back from Hermione's. Shifting her head into his shoulder, Fenrir tilted Hermione's body so that Landon had full view of the slice. The Beta snarled as the extent of the damage came into focus. 

An inch deep and at least an inch in width, the slice ran from the ribs below her arm to the curve of her hip. The skin was torn and ragged, parts looking like it had been peeled back. The flesh inside the cut was an angry red. A smaller slice cut off of the original to run across the side of her breast, stopping at the top. Though not deep, it was still a notable slice. As the young woman breathed the cut would pull tight, torn skin stretching before releasing with her exhale. 

Landon bared his teeth and shook his head. Whoever had done this was intending great harm to this witch. Now that she was bitten and Landon could already smell the change in her scent, a fury roared its head in his chest. Someone had done this to his packmate, someone with magic it seemed as the cut was so precise and deep. Closing his eyes, Landon took a deep breath trying to calm himself so as not to scare Hermione. 

He turned his gaze to Fenrir. "We're going to need to clean the cut out in the river. Besides she would feel better if we got all that blood off of her." Turning his head, he met Hermione's gaze and gave her a small smile. 

She returned it. Fenrir gently lifted her torso so she was sitting upright, head still on his shoulder. Pulling away from his warmth and strength, Hermione scooted to the end of the bed. Pushing off the edge, she teetered before regaining her balance. Nodding to her body, she raised her head to meet Landon's gaze. "Where are your towels? I think I can take it from here." Fenrir stood from the bed, hovering behind the witch as Landon grabbed a bath towel and one of Fenrir's shirts. 

The Beta handed Hermione both items, laughing as she raised an eyebrow. "I had to spread your jacket and shirt and I was positive you didn't want to walk around with just a bra on." 

Hermione's eyes flicked to the werewolf standing over her shoulder. "No this is good. Thank you Landon." She moved towards the door. Each step seemed to tilt the entire room to either side. Her vision grew fuzzy and she would've fallen had Fenrir not caught her with an arm around her bare stomach. She groaned, pressing the palm of her hand to her forehead. Fenrir gently lifted her to stand against his body. Even through his thick flannel shirt she could feel his warmth. Unconsciously, her back pressed into his chest, trying to absorb the warmth. 

"Easy there," Fenrir's voice was low and soft, smoothing over Hermione's skin, sending shivers down her spine. 

She shook her head. "What happened?" 

Landon chuckled. "You've lost a lot of blood in the past two days. Your body hasn't had the chance to replenish it. For now you're going to have to rest and let your body recuperate." 

Hermione growled to herself, palm pressing into her forehead. "I hate this." 

A low chuckle sounded from the warm chest behind her. "You hate what exactly?"

Eyes still shut she gestured to his arm around her waist, to the slice in her side, then waved her hands around angrily. " _This_! My inability to take care of myself! I've been on the run for months, fed three people on roots and berries, and broke into Gringots bank, yet I can't even walk to the door to bathe myself!" The bitterness was rolling in waves off of her. 

Fenrir's hand traced up to her ribs. His fingers pressed along the exposed bones, running along the sharp angles. "Yes and you did a marvelous job feeding yourself." His voice was a low growl of dissatisfaction. 

Hermione's head whipped around and she snarled in his face. "Don't move your hands any farther," she hissed. "And for your information, I did perfectly fine. The boys needed more than I did. I was willing to sacrifice a little of my own comfort so our job could get done." 

Fenrir's clear blue eyes narrowed. "Their job should've also been to take care of each other. That includes making sure _everyone_ is getting the same care." 

Hermione curled her lip in a sneer. "We had more important things to think about. Now drop it before I drop you to your ass again!" 

Fenrir growled, his arm pulling her tighter into his chest as he lowered his face to hers. "Pack members don't talk to their Alpha like that, especially smartass little witches who don't know what their talking about." His voice was low but dangerous. 

A shiver passed through Hermione's body but she growled up at him anyway. "Who says you're my Alpha?" Her voice was low and instigating. 

Fenrir's eyes darkened into black, fury rolling off of his body in waves. Before he could expload, Landon ripped Hermione from his grasp, jerking her behind him as he stood between the two. 

"Fenrir stop!" Landon's voice echoed with power. Fenrir's gaze flicked to his Beta and he growled. But Landon squared his shoulders and let out a deafening snarl. "Get control of yourself!" Fenrir growled for a moment longer but under his Beta'a burning gaze, the Alpha's eyes returned to their original clear blue.

Nodding in satisfaction to Fenrir, Landon turned to Hermione. "Don't you know when to stop! If you don't get control of yourself, then you're going to be in worse trouble then you were before. Learn some self-control." He glared at both the stunned Hermione as well as the calming Fenrir. "Now that _both_ of you are done, can we finish what we came here for or would you like to throw another tantrum?" He glanced between the two; Fenrir was already under control, his arms crossed over his chest, meanwhile Hermione glared at Landon, trying to ignore her teetering body. 

Landon nodded before bending down and throwing Hermione over his shoulder, careful not to aggravate her slashed side. She gave a cry of surprise before snarling and smacking her hand onto the werewolf's back. Landon simply ignored her, his arm resting across her waist as he began strolling towards the river. Fenrir followed, laughing at Hermione's furious face. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Landon slid Hermione from his shoulder, gently setting her on her feet, careful not to brush his hand across the bare slice in her side. His arm wrapped around her uninjured hip to secure her as Greyback stepped next to them. Fenrir gazed at the water, light sparkling in the blue depths from a hole in the forest's thick foliage. Reaching a massive hand over his head, the man pulled his flannel shirt from his shoulders, dropping it to the forest floor before slipping out of his heavy boots. Remaining in his snug denim jeans, Fenrir strolled to the river and into the cool water. Taking a breath the man disappeared under the current. Hermione and Landon watched, Landon with a smirk on his face.

With a burst of water Fenrir shot up, flicking his sopping long hair over his head. Turning, he waded to the shore and stretched out his massive hands. "Take off whatever you don't want to get wet," he rumbled.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Do I have to go in with you?" Even while she spoke, she removed her shoes and torn jeans. She stood in the crisp air, bare except for her matching black bra and underwear.

Landon squeezed her uninjured hip. "This is just to make sure nothing else happens. Remember you've lost a lot of blood. We haven't seen any major side effects but they'll come soon. We don't want you getting hurt when they hit."

Hermione glanced at Landon before her eyes were dragged back to Fenrir's body. Her eyes followed the water droplets as they trailed down Fenrir's tight, muscled body. The werewolf had a broad chest leading to wide shoulders connecting to thick, strong arms. The muscles buldged, stretching the skin but not enough to be grotesque. Just enough to admire the view. His chest narrowed down into a slim waist, the faint shadow of abs covering his lower stomach. And his hips. Hermione wanted to run her fingers down the curving V of his hips.

Shaking her head, Hermione turned back to Landon. "Why do you guys care what happens to me? I'm a Mudblood witch who fought alongside Harry Potter and the Order," her voice lowered to a snarl at the mention of her former friend and the organization he endorsed. "What do I have that you want?"

Landon's eyes saddened at the doubt in her voice. Did she really think that people help her only for what they got out of it? Landon smiled down at her. "You are a packmate now. You share our blood and are part of our family. We won't let anyone hurt you without consequence."

Fenrir stretched out his hands again. Landon gently pushed Hermione towards him. Hesitating for a moment, she stretched her hands out and settled her palms against Fenrir's open hands. Landon kept a hand on her lower back steadying her while she walked into the water. Eventually, his fingers slid away, leaving Hermione to follow the lead of Fenrir Greyback. The brunette watched the man warily as he led her farther into the river, where it gathered the deepest.

Fenrir moved his hands to his broad chest, pulling her closer to his body. "That slash was given to you by a wand. Landon told you no one hurts you without paying the consequences. Whoever touched you did more than hurt you. What happened and who did it?" His voice was soft and deep, soothing while it washed over and around her in a calming dance.

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. "It was actually meant to kill me," she murmured. "But I tried to get out of it, resulting in my side. I'm not going to tell you who...it hurts too much."

Fenrir snarled at the reality of her wounds. But he squeezed her hands gently at the sorrowful tone in her voice. "For now, focus on healing. The full moon is in about a week, that means your first change. You'll need your strength then."

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath before squaring her shoulders. The corner of Fenrir's lip pulled up. The little witch was putting her emotions to the side to conquer what lay in front of her. She had strength, both magical and mental. Something seemed to grow in his chest as he watched her.

Letting go of one of his hands, Hermione began gently scooping water over the slice, carefully rubbing the remaining dirt from the wound. Fenrir cupped a hand, filled it with river water, and carefully poured it over her stomach. His fingers brushed along her skin as he began rubbing off the dried blood.

Hermione's stomach quivered from his touch. She tried to ignore the rush of energy that flooded her body, by focusing on cleaning herself. But her focus kept wandering to the delicious V curve of his hips and the long, strong fingers that danced lightly over her skin. Mentally slapping herself, Hermione turned, pulling away from Fenrir's fingers. Taking a deep breath she sank under the cool water. The chilled water swirled around her, startling her weary body and shocking it back to life. Tilting her head back, she shoved off the bottom and emerged, sputtering water. Shaking her head she blinked away the water droplets clinging to her eyelashes.

Fenrir's clear blue eyes couldn't move from the stunning woman in front of him. His hands still held hers as she had dunked underwater, feeling her fingers constrict as the cold water surrounded her head. When she emerged, her head was thrown back, the water rolling down her elegant throat before sliding down her body. His eyes settled on several droplets beaded on her collarbone. As she blinked the water from her eyes, movement sent them trickling down her chest, sliding between the valley of her curving breasts, disappearing into the fabric of her bra.

A throat being cleared caught Fenrir's attention. His gaze lifted to met the smirking face of Hermione. An elegant eyebrow arched triumphantly. "Can't keep your eyes to yourself can you?"

Fenrir's chest rumbled with a low sound of amusement. "Most defiantly can not. After all, this beauty is mine."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean 'mine'?"

Fenrir grinned, a mischievous, secretive grin that pushed on Hermione's curiosity. "You'll discover soon enough."

The witch huffed but before she could respond, Fenrir pulled one of her hands, twisting her around to check that the blood from her back was gone. Turning her back around, he inspected the cut, looking for any remaining impurities. Nodding in satisfaction, he began pulling her towards the shore. As they waded out of the river, their hands still resting against the other's palms, the cool autumn air struck Hermione's wet skin. Shivers erupted from her body as Fenrir led her up the bank.

Landon waited on shore with towels. Handing one to Hermione and one to Fenrir, he gathered the discarded clothes and began walking in the direction of the cabin. Hermione was about to follow, her towel wrapped around her shoulders, when two burly arms pulled her from her feet. One arm was tucked under her knees, the other wrapping around her lower back. Turning towards the figure, Hermione came face to face with Fenrir. His clear blue eyes gazed back into her own startled gaze. The corner of his lips pulled up in a smirk.

As he began walking to the cabin, Hermione watched the light dance and chase shadows across the plains of his face. His sharp jaw became dagger-like as the sun shone through the trees. His cheekbones, normally subtle, became strong and pronounced. His face looked younger than she had seen it before. Maybe it was the light playing off his skin or maybe it was the peace of being in his home, but the change suited him. He seemed so full of life and potential. Shaking her head, Hermione leaned back onto his arm, her temple falling to his shoulder.

As they walked, weariness slowly filled her muscles and limbs. All she wanted to do was lay down on the cabin's bed and rest. Landon held the door open as Fenrir carried Hermione inside. The Beta chuckled at the girl's sleepy look. "We're almost done. Then you can sleep."

Hermione gave a sleepy moan of delight, closing her eyes in a blink that lasted longer than it should have. Fenrir chuckled as he settled her on the bed, sliding onto the bed next to her uninjured side. Pulling the towel away, Landon knelt next to the bed. In his hands was a crude wooden jar and a fresh roll of bandages and gauze.

Opening the jar, Landon swiped his fingers inside before carefully sweeping them over her side. A cool salve was carefully applied to the slice, Landon making sure to work some of it into the wound as well. Landon paused, glancing at the slice across her breast. Hermione smiled down at him. "Here, I'll help."

Reaching back, grimacing at the tug in her side, her fingers unclipped her bra. Clutching the front Hermione glanced at Fenrir and Landon. "Keep your eyes to yourself," she warned with an raised eyebrow.

Landon nodded while Fenrir only smirked from her side. "No promises, babe."

Hermione bared her teeth at the nickname before turning and slipping the strap from her shoulder. Clutching the bra to her front, she pulled back the elastic to reveal the slice. She had to show a fair amount of side-cleavage but she made sure nothing else could be seen, no matter how had Fenrir tilted his head.

Landon quickly applied the salve before turning to her side. "Can you lay back?" He asked. Hermione nodded and lay back onto the bed. He lay the gauze over the slice before grabbing the bandages. Looping it once around her hip, he began wrapping her torso snuggly. When he had finished her side, the bandage stopped just below her breasts. Turning to the last slice, Landon wrapped the bandage over her shoulder several times before tying it. Grabbing a piece of tape, he made sure the bandage on her shoulder would not move.

Fenrir grabbed his spare shirt and slid it over her head, carefully lifting the arm on the bandaged side to slip through the arm. Hermione's face tightened before relaxing as she slipped the other arm into the shirt. The fabric was comfortably worn, the hem falling to her thighs, covering her underwear clad hips. Slipping her hand under the shirt, Hermione slid the remaining bra strap from her shoulder before pulling her bra from the shirt.

Landon turned to gather the bloody towels, giving the girl her privacy as she made herself comfortable. Fenrir watched her hands move, setting the underclothing in between her folded jeans. Carefully scooting backwards, Hermione lowered her body onto the furs, curling onto her uninjured side as her body sagged in sleepiness.

Fenrir's eyes caught the movement of flesh underneath he borrowed shirt, his bright blue gaze catching the way the fabric slid and moved over her curves. Closing his eyes, he shook his head animalisticly before taking a breath and turning to Landon.

The werewolf was watching him with a grin as wide as Great Britain. Ignoring the idiotic grin in his Beta's face he spoke, voice void of emotion. "Is there anything else you have to do?" Landon shook his head, still grinning. Fenrir flashed his teeth before turning to Hermione, who gazed up at him, watching his reactions with a sleepy smile. "You should sleep."

He stood to leave but a small hand grasping his wrist. He turned and gaze Hermione a curious look. Her sleepy smile had melted into a look of nervousness, her eyes scanning the room before resting on the two men. "Can..." she took a deep breath. "Can you wait until I've fallen asleep?" Fenrir raised a curious eyebrow and she plunged into an explanation. "You both have told me how much I need to rest and I always seem to rest better when I fell asleep with you guys near. It also seems to keep the nightmares away..." her voice dropped to a whisper.

Her hand released Fenrir's wrist. "Sorry, you have things to do. I've just being paranoid." Dropping her hand she curled into a tighter ball and squeezed her eyes shut. Both of the men could smell her embarrassment but underneath that temporary emotion was fear. This was a haunting fear, something that came to bite her when she thought she was free.

Landon dropped the bloody bundle to the floor and settled himself on the bed next to her feet. He titled his head to make eye contact with the girl. He gave a sad smile. "Have you been having them long?"

Hermione gazed at him for a moment before shrugging. "Since Malfoy Manson. And I keep seeing Ron," her voice caught in her throat, a shiver running through her body.

Landon rested his hand in her knee, his palm encasing the joint. "We'll wait until you're asleep."

Hermione gaze him a grateful smile. "Thank you." Tucking her head into the fur, her eyes closed. Fenrir watched her for a moment before settling himself by her head. Unconsciously his hand reached out to stroke her long, wild curls. Landon removed his hand, watching as Fenrir's fingers began gently untangling her damp curls.

The werewolf's face seemed to relax, his shoulders and body releasing their tention as he gaze down at the young woman. "You know don't you," he murmured. "She's it: your mate."

Fenrir paused before nodding. "Yes. I figured it out almost immediately. She has a power to her, most likely because of being an Alpha female. But she's also everything you told me the Moon would give me."

Landon chuckled. "The perfect equal. Just as stubborn and hardheaded but also incredibly dedicated and willing to do anything for those she loves." Landon nudged his shoulder. "I also told you she would push you in a way no one else would dare. She wouldn't fear you or let you dictate her own thoughts. She'd be an equal in every way."

Fenrir chuckled. "You also said that because of that we may want to kill each other at times."

Landon nodded. "There's never going to be a perfect relationship. But there are great ones."

Fenrir nodded and turned back to the curled figure of Hermione. Landon watched for a moment, content to soak in the knowledge that his Alpha had found his mate. "Fenrir?" The Alpha raised his head. "When are you going to tell her?"

Fenrir sighed and ran a hand through his long dark hair, gripping it harshly while he thought. "If she hasn't figured it out by the full moon, I'll tell her."

Landon nodded. They fell back into silence. When they were sure Hermione was asleep, they carefully made their way out of the cabin.

Hermione's mind was running a mile a second. Her half-conscious ears had tuned in just as Fenrir Greyback had called her his mate. She was the mate to Fenrir Greyback. She waited for panic to fill her chest but nothing occurred. Instead a warmth flooded through her body. She wanted to open her eyes and sort through the knowledge and its effects but exhaustion pulled at her one final time. She succumbed to it, storing her thoughts for the morning. She was the mate to Fenrir Greyback. What could happen next?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The days began slipping by, the night of the full moon a looming future growing ever closer. Every day both Landon and Fenrir would stop by, sometimes together, other times separately. They would bring Hermione her food and check her bandage, carefully inspecting for any signs of infection. While she would usually smile and thank them for this action, now it seemed everything set her off. An ever present gnaw of energy pulsed underneath her skin, pulling and zipping through her muscles into her bones and through her blood to her flesh.

Every little thing seemed to dig it's way into her creeping, squirming skin. Her ears would zone in and out, one minuet she would be able to hear every little noise, the next she felt almost deaf. Her other senses (taste, touch, sight, smell) fluctuated as well. A continuous limbo greeted Hermione every day.

But it was not only her senses changing. Her body began changing as well. Already her temperature had spiked to the high heat of a werewolf. Some days she could not stand being inside the enclosed, tight cabin. Several times Fenrir and Landon had found her pacing around the outside of the cabin in just an old tshirt of Fenrir's and underwear, her skin in goosebumps yet burning with heat.

Just two days before the full moon Fenrir had shown up at the cabin only to find the door wide open and the house empty. Following her scent he had found Hermione in the cold river, her hair and clothes soaked through as she stood in the middle. Growling in fury, Fenrir had swum into the river and thrown the girl over his shoulder. He hadn't set her down from his shoulder, not when he walked out of the river, not when Hermione cursed and hit his back. He had only set her down once she was in the cabin and the door locked.

He had growled into her face. "You are a bloody fucking idiot! Why the hell were you doing in the river?!"

Hermione had whined and dropped her head back. "It's too hot! Everything feels like it's burning!"

Fenrir had shook his head. "That's the transformation. But you're still in the works! You are still susceptible to cold even when you feel like you aren't. What were you thinking?!"

"I can't think!" She had yelled back, her eyes burning into him. "I can't do anything because all I hear is either static or every noise within a mile. All I see is the movement and fiber of every object, all I smell and taste is every thing I come across! My senses are in overload I CAN'T THINK!" As soon as she had screamed those words, the witch had let out a garbled shriek, hands flying up to clutch her head, body curling into itself.

Fenrir had dropped to his knees in front of her. His massive, strong hands had reached forward. One palm wrapping around the back of her neck, the other sliding around the base of her shoulder-blades. With a soft tug, Hermione had been pressed into Fenrir's chest. The man had lowered his head till his lips touched her ear. "Focus on one thing." He had murmured almost silently. "Listen to my heartbeat; zero in and focus on that single movement and sound." Hermione had nodded against his chest and closed her eyes.

She had bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to ignore the mass of information being fed to her senses. Fenrir had shook his head against her temple. "Don't tune out other things. Simply focus on the heartbeat, don't consciously try to tune out other things, it'll only make you focus on them even more."

Hermione had let out a shaky breath and turned her senses to the faint drum of Fenrir's heart. It had taken a moment to turn every one of her senses to Fenrir but eventually Hermione's entire being had focused on him: Her ears had repeated the steady rhythm of the muscle; Her fingers had moved from her head to the front of his shirt, pressing her palms and fingers into the material, feeling the slight movement of his heart against the muscle and tissue of his body; Her nose had focused on the scents emanating from his body, the fresh forest, the faint smell of sweat, and something she could only describe as purely masculine. Hermione had practically tasted it, the husky, clear masculine smell of him.

They had stayed that way for a long while, Hermione entirely focusing herself onto the body holding her, Fenrir's arms wrapped around the figure of his mate.

Eventually, Hermione's senses had dulled until there was almost nothing left. Everything had seemed muted and calm. With a heaving sigh, Hermione had slumped against Fenrir's chest. It was only then that she had realized her legs had wrapped around the man's hips. Their bodies had been pressed tightly together, with almost no space remained between them.

Hermione had slowly pulled herself away and tried to pull off of Fenrir's lap but his arms had held her there. "Fenrir, let go." Her voice had been quiet but not without power.

The corner of his lip had pulled upwards. "What if I don't want to?" He had lowered his head to rest it against Hermione's. "After all you were destined to be here."

Hermione had cocked an eyebrow. "Which here? In the pack or on your lap?"

Fenrir had chuckled. "You know what I mean."

An eyebrow had arched. "Oh do I?"

Fenrir had nodded against her head. "I know you heard the conversation I had with Landon. You know what I called you."

There had been a pause, Fenrir's words seeming to have expanded and filled the room. "Your mate," she breathed.

"Exactly." He had leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead in a lingering kiss. Hermione hadn't been able to stop the shaking inhale she took, no more than she could have stopped her eyes from closing as a bliss had washed through her body.

When Fenrir had pulled back, Hermione's eyes had opened to meet his piercing gaze. They had watched each other for a moment before he smiled and his arms slid away from her body. Lowering her body to the floor, the man had stood and walked from the cabin, pausing at the door long enough for a word of advise. "Try to stay out of the river from now on."

The full moon was mere hours away and the ooey-gooey peace of two days ago had long gone. The stirring in the back of her mind seemed to fill with energy, almost as if something knew what was happening and spent the remaining hours pacing back and forth. Her heightened senses had begun this morning and so far they hadn't flickered back yet. They seemed to be fixing themselves permanently. Hermione's nerves were on edge all day.

Landon had knocked over a chair on his food delivery. The sound had crashed into Hermione's ears. With a roar she had grabbed the chair and smashed it to pieces. Turning to Landon she found him observing with a bored expression and a raised eyebrow. "A bit dramatic don't you think?"

Hermione curled her lip. "Fuck off," she snarled.

Her attitude seemed to grow sourer in Fenrir's presence. She continuously snapped at him, growling and cursing irritably. Fenrir simply watched in amusement, impressed with his mate's colorful expressions.

"You can go fuck a duck for all the shits I give!" She yelled at him. The massive man heaved a sigh. His mate's attitude was getting tiring. "And if you say one more bloody-!" She didn't get to finish her sentence as Fenrir reached forward and slung her onto his shoulder before turning and strolling from the cabin.

"What the hell are you doing?! Put me down!" Hermione beat on his back with her fists, snarling and kicking ferociously.

Fenrir rolled his eyes. Lifting a hand he rapped his palm across Hermione's arse, which happened to be at his eye level. Hermione froze before a low growl sounded in her throat. Fenrir smirked to himself, sure that he had put an end to the witch's snarls. It took seconds for him to realize that Hermione would not easily give in.

Fingers lightly dragged on the back of his thighs, nails dragging seductively before rounding on his arse. The hands squeezed slightly and a low rumble sounded from Fenrir's chest. A smirk graced Hermione's face as she was pulled back to face a heavily breathing Fenrir. His eyes were dark around the edge of his pupils.

"What do you think you're doing, babe?" His voice had grown heated, the smooth bourbon becoming a silky murmur and huskiness of his voice going an octave lower.

Hermione smiled and wrapped one of her arms around his neck, ignoring the slight pull in her healing side. Her remaining hand settled delicately in his stomach. She could feel the muscles jumping under the fabric of his shirt. "I think you know exactly what I'm doing," her husky whisper passed between them as she pulled her face closer to his, their breaths mixing and dancing together. Her hand began sliding lower, fingers dragging over the slight ridges of his stomach before pausing to play with the waistband of his jeans.

She smiled. "I'm teaching you a lesson." Her words were almost murmured against his lips, their mouths centimeters from each other. Her hand moved to cup the entirety of his neck. In a flash Hermione jerked her hand, twisting his torso while she pushed his stomach forward. For a moment Fenrir was airborne, the next he was slammed into the ground on his back. He let out a breathless moan as Hermione gazed down at him. "I told you before: remember who you are dealing with." She smirked before walking towards the pack, following the wellworn path towards the sound of voices and the smell of werewolves.

Landon looked up, startled when Hermione strolled into the pack without the Alpha. Fenrir had left to bring her to the pack for the transformation but only Hermione returned, and with a satisfied smirk in her face. It was the happiest he'd seen her in the past week and that fact made him uneasy.

Standing from his position next to several of his Warriors, the Beta approached the witch who stood with her hands planted on her hips. She swept her gaze over the small cabins built into the rock foundation that jutted upwards. She seemed to nod in approval before turning to the approaching werewolf.

"Hello Landon. Where should I wait for the moon?" Her voice was cheerful but he could sense the energy writhing underneath her skin. At this moment, hours before transformation, she was most dangerous.

He watched her carefully as he answered. "Because you are a newly changed werewolf, you will be with Alpha and me. Speaking of which, where is he?"

Hermione gave a look of innocence. "Who?"

"Me!" Roared a furious voice. Landon lifted his gaze over Hermione's head, watching curiously as a raging Alpha stormed into the pack. His eyes were nearly black and fixed on Hermione. "You!" he jabbed a finger at her. She merely raised an eyebrow, "Are in big trouble!"

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "What else is new?"

Fenrir bared his teeth before turning to Landon. "Your turn. If I stay I can't be held responsible for what might happen."

As he stormed towards his warriors, Hermione called over her shoulder. "Afraid, _oh_ _mighty_ Alpha?"

The man froze. The Warriors stood and began snarling at the woman who dared insult their Alpha. Landon stepped away from Hermione, astonishment painted on his face.

Fenrir turned at the same time as Hermione. " _What_ did you say?"

Hermione lifted her chin and took a defiant step forward. "I _said,_ 'afraid, _oh_ _mighty_ Alpha.'"

Fenrir roared and flung himself at the woman. Hermione threw herself at the man. The fight was vicious, each opponent tearing and ripping at the other, trying to overpower each other. Blood flew in spurts as teeth sank into flesh, claws tore into skin, bones popped, and muscles were strained. Landon tried to break up the fight but he was flung back with a broken nose and four vicious claw marks across his chest.

After nearly an hour of fighting, Fenrir finally pinned Hermione underneath his body. His transformed jaw was clamped around the back of Hermione's neck, his clawed hands holding her arms to the ground. The young woman's teeth and hands had been transformed as well. Fenrir and Landon took in this fact with amazement. It was already clear she was an Alpha blood. Not only had she been able to stand up to Fenrir, she had met him in battle and given him a run for his money, as well as transformed herself. There was power in her that had yet to be tapped.

Fenrir held her for a moment longer before biting down once and releasing her. She waited till he had stood and walked to his Beta before pulling herself to her feet. Both were in terrible shape. Both were nearly drenched in blood, claw marks and long gashs spattering their bodies. Teeth marks covered Hermione's neck while they littered Fenrir's arms and shoulders. The old shirt Hermione wore had been torn to shreds, just enough left go over her breasts. Her bandage was just barely hanging from her body. Fenrir's shirt lay like streamers on the ground, nothing resembling the shirt previously worn.

Already Fenrir's eye was turning black, bruises beginning to darken all around his body. Hermione's body was beginning to speckle as well, although the majority of them were on her exposed hips and her arms. Fenrir lifted his chin as their eyes met. He curled his lip and snarled ferociously. Hermione growled but tilted her neck instinctively, baring her neck to the Alpha.

With a nod Fenrir turned to his Warriors, turning his shredded and bloody back to the torn, bloody and bruised witch. With a groan, Hermione stumbled into the shade of the rocks, grimacing as she lowered herself to the ground. She was alone for a while until a young man approached from behind a house. His long, almost mahogany colored hair was pulled back into a knot at the base of his neck. Curious green eyes gazed down at her as he lowered his long, lean body to the ground. His skin was a suntouched caramel, beautiful and glowing with a curious energy.

Hermione threw him a look, studying his curious gaze as it swept over her, taking in the blood, torn skin, and darkening bruises.

"What do you want?" The young man smiled, seeming to ignore the growl hidden in the question.

"Oh nothing. Just ... curious." His voice was smooth with a hint of accent. But it didn't seem to be one single accent, it was a new accent, a mixture of too many to pick out an individual. It was welcoming yet knowledgeable.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Curious as to what?"

The young man smiled. "As to why you and the Alpha haven't jumped each other's bones yet." Hermione snarled but the young man simply laughed, throwing his head back and guffawing into the sky.

"Who the hell are you?" She demanded.

The young man stretched out his hand. "Joshua Oskae. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Hermione. I'm a huge fan."

Placing her hand in his, they shook hands, Hermione studying him cautiously. "Joshua Oskae, huh? And why exactly are you talking to me? I just challenged your Alpha, fought him, nearly won, and you're claiming we need to jump each other's bones? Do explain."

"Gladly." The man smiled again. He seemed unable to stop the action. He scooted closer, turning his body to face towards the Alpha a little. "You see, you push the Alpha. You are both similar yet you push each other to be better. It's clear you are made for each other, _but_ because you are both highly," he sighed, " _HIGHLY_ stubborn and unrelenting, you have an enormous tension between you. It seems that tension has been building and building and soon it's going to go somewhere. Some might think it was this fight but it's not." He gave her a look and grinned. "I can tell there's still a tension. Eventually that's going to break and when it does I'm going to guess you both will be _very_ pleased with the outcome."

Hermione studied the young man for a moment. "And how do you know about this?"

He smiled (again!). "It's my gift. I'm a reader, I can read people and situations."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "And does everyone get a gift?"

Joshua shook his head. "There's usually only one or two in each pack. I'm this pack's readers. For instance," he turned his body fully towards her. "I know that you are being especially aggressive and short because you are in the midst of transformation. But it's also because you have had an unusually quick connection to our Alpha. There's an emotion that you're trying to deny."

Hermione studied the young man for a moment before relaxing against the rock wall. "You're completely right." The witch turned her head towards the hulking figure of Fenrir. "There's something that draws me to him and I can't explain it. I don't _want_ to explain it because it's so irrational." Her gaze dropped to her lap. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gave me to him, as a war gift. I'm basically his property! He also bit me, giving me even more of a name than before." She scoffed bitterly. "Hermione Granger, Mudblood werewolf."

Joshua smiled sadly. Hermione let out a deep sigh and lay her head back in the cool rock, squeezing her eyes shut. "I should hate him and everything he represents. But I can't. I've _tried_ , but I never can get it up. Then I overheard Landon and him talking and apparently I'm his mate." A quiet moment passed between them, Joshua staring at her in wonder while Hermione looked questioningly into the forest foliage. "It's the perfect explanation. But I don't want to open up. I don't want to make myself vulnerable because the last time I did that-!" She froze, voice rising with anger. She closed her eyes and her tone became tired. "Let's just say I was proven wrong."

Joshua reached out a placed a long hand on her clenched hands. "You've been betrayed before. It's understandable that you would be afraid to trust again. But you're also new to the werewolf community; There is _nothing_ that can compare." The young man ducked and titled his head puppishly to make eye contact with Hermione's lowered head.

"When a werewolf gains someone's trust, they'd rather cut off a limb than give it up. Now imagine that but a hundred time more. That is what a mate feels. They'd never, and I mean never, break their mate's trust." Hermione's head lifted and Joshua's followed, maintaining the eye contact and watching the emotion dance through her eyes. "You can trust Fenrir. You just have to let him in."

Hermione gave a little sob. "But that's the hard part. I don't know how anymore!"

Joshua gently squeezed her hands. "It's something everyone has to learn on their own."

Hermione studied him for a moment, his glowing green gaze, the energy being emitted from his caramel skin. He seemed young but in his eyes and his words there was an old soul, with experiences and knowledge beyond comprehension. "How old are you?"

Joshua chuckled. "Twenty-five. Why do you ask?"

She shook her head. "You just seem different. There's something in your eyes ... something ancient." Her voice was quiet.

Joshua lips pulled up in another beaming smile. "I love that word; ancient. Perfectly sums up everything around us." He turned to the rock and brushed his long fingers across it's surface, lowering his hand until he was brushing his fingers through the dirt. "Everything has a beginning, has an origin, a youth. Sometimes that youth is ripped away too soon. People age centuries in a matter of weeks or months. Your mind changes as well, seeing the patterns that emerge in humanity and learning to predict and pull on them." His head lifted and his hypnotizing green gaze locked on Hermione. "The wisdom of elders is sometimes given to youth. It can help them understand, especially if they've been aged young."

His lips pulled up at one corner of his mouth. "I've been aged. But the moon gave me some assistance, something to help others and to see the beauty in yet another hectic age of humanity." His dirt streaked finger raised to tap his temple. "Though I am young in age, I've been given an old spirit. My wolf's spirit has live an entire life before being bestowed to me. He is my guide, he helps me to read the world."

Hermione's face was one of pure, innocent amazement and intrigue. "What do you mean you've been aged?"

Joshua gave a grimace. "I was raised in a different type of pack. A warring pack." At Hermione's quizzical look, he smiled. "There are at least five basic types of packs. There's the warring packs, the unity packs, the mixed packs, the trading packs, and the rogue packs.

"A lot of the times warring packs are taken for rogue packs, especially in a lot of stories. A rogue pack is usually a group of wolves who don't have any of the hierarchy of a normal pack, no Alpha or Beta or Omega. Everyone's the same. And they don't always travel nomadicly. The most nomadic pack is actually the warring pack. They travel around, fighting whatever they want. A lot of times it's different packs, sometimes it's villages or other creatures. They are the wolves that love destruction and flexing their muscles regularly.

"Anyway, I was born into a warring pack. I've seen things that no child should witness. The more gruesome, more painful, more bloody the method, the better for those wolves. They trained their children early to follow similarly." Joshua shook his head, anger filling his eyes. "I wasn't like everyone around me. I couldn't stomach the cruelty and lifestyle. So I left. I became a lone wolf, traveling the world and discovering the traits of humanity. I've been to war zones and peace zones, bigoted areas and united areas. I've seen more than most want to.

"But I knew it was my calling. I already knew I was seeing things differently, with the eyes of an ancient soul. It was only confirmed with my transformation when my wolf talked to me for the first time."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "You were a born werewolf and you transformed on the road. Born werewolves transform at twelve. How old were you when you left?"

Joshua gave a little smile. "Six years old."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Six," she breathed. When she had digested that fact, she turned back to the fascinating young man. "How did you find Fenrir's pack? Which one are they?"

"They are a trading pack. They interact with other creatures and humans but only when nessisarily. They don't actively seek out others unless to barter in a sense. I found them when I was passing through the forest. I came across their pack grounds and something seemed to call me into them. I've learned to follow my premonitions. I've been here since."

Hermione nodded. Pulling her knees to her chest, she ignore the pull of skin and dried blood and lay her head on her knees. "Do most packs trust each other the way you described?"

Joshua nodded his head. "Every pack is entwined in each other. They trust each other completely and if they don't, that wolf is told to find another pack of their choice. Packs are stronger than family, they protect each other to the bitter end."

"Are you convincing our newest member not to run away?" The two turned towards the husky, low, and smooth voice of Fenrir. Hermione's eyes blinked longer than nessisary, her body letting his voice wash over her.

Joshua chuckled. "I believe I've convinced her." He turned to Fenrir and gave him a look. "She's a good one. Keep her close. She won't disappoint." Turning to Hermione, Joshua picked up her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. "Till we meet again, Hermione." Pulling his long, lean body up, the enchanting young man walked towards the forest and disappeared into the foliage.

"He's facanating," she breathed.

Fenrir chuckled, wrapping his strong hand around hers and tugging her to her feet. "That he is. We like and need him dearly." Placing a single digit under her chin, Fenrir turned her head from the forest to meet his piercing eyes. "Forgive me Hermione. I can't allow anyone challenging me, especially with what's going on right now. I hope I haven't hurt you severely."

Hermione snorted. "Please, it takes more than that. Besides, I do believe I tore you more." She gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry for being difficult. I'm still adjusting to everything that's going on."

Fenrir squeezed her hands. "Understandable. Now come on, Landon and I need to walk you through the night."

Hermione glanced around, realizing how dark the sky had grown. She nodded and began to walk towards the group. Hermione froze and turned back to Fenrir as he tugged gently in her hands. She gave him a smile as he closed the distance between their bodies. Releasing one of her hands, he cupped the back of her head before pressing his lips to her forehead in a soft, lingering kiss.

Peace and satisfaction flooded Hermione's senses as a whispered sigh escaped her lips.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The sky grew darker and darker, smokey clouds stretching across the deep purple expanse revealed in pieces among the forest foliage. A sliver of moonlight was coming from low in the east. A few hours remained until the glowing orb of the full moon came to rest in the center of the sky. A stillness had fallen over the forest; the animals were silent, no movement except the rustle of leaves in the trees and on the forest floor could be heard.

The pack was filled with energy, warriors wrestling each other playfully, mates rubbing against each other, children running around like they were on an caffeine high. Excitement filled Hermione's body. The anticipated transformation seemed to turn everyone into bouncing, eager puppies.

The only ones not completely lost in the excitement were Fenrir and Landon. Both of them walked around the pack, making sure pups didn't wander too far off, warriors didn't accidentally hurt each other, and mates didn't disappear together before the moon. When Landon reached Hermione he gave her a smile before settling himself next to her. "How you feeling?"

Hermione gave him a smile. Both she and Fenrir had cleaned themselves and dressed the scratches they'd given each other, so she knew he wasn't addressing the previous fight. "Eager. And energized. Is it always like this?"

Landon nodded. "Our wolf is the feral and natural part of us. Society tells and trains us to keep that side down so when the moon comes up, a chance to let our wild side out, people get a little excited."

Hermione turned back to watching the pack. Her eyes wandered to Fenrir who was instructing a couple of the warriors about a certain move they had attempted. "Why is it you and Fenrir aren't effected?"

Landon threw her a smirk. "Who says we aren't?" He chuckled before turning back to scanning the pack. "We have a job to do first. Once everyone's transformed and stable, then are we able to let ourselves go feral. Almost everyone can protect themselves in wolf form so it's less of a worry."

Together the two watched as the pack interacted, waiting for the rounded moon to take its place in the sky. A peace and comfort filled Hermione. This pack was stronger than family. They trusted each other to protect one another, they were able to let their guard down and be themselves. Able to give in to their wild side. There was a sense of unity and freedom here, and that was something Hermione had been searching for.

Before she had received her letter from Hogwarts, she'd been the outcast in the Muggle world, and not just because of her magically abilities. She'd been the strange girl who preferred the world of books and knowledge to the rough, painful, and harsh world of experience. While most others had gone with their friends to discover the world with their own senses, Hermione had turned to those who could describe those experiences instead.

When her letter had arrived, she'd spent an entire summer dreaming of a world where everyone could do what they felt comfortable with without ridicule, without receiving criticizing looks from her peers and elders. She'd imagined she would find people like her to discuss and compare the worlds in her books to the outside world. To find the messages smuggled within the pages and ink; the messages only keen eyes and open minded individuals could see.

She'd entered the train with an excited and wonder-filled mind. She found some of the wonder and beauty, but she also found the same ridicule; the mocking looks and harsh comments of "the bookworm" and "the weirdo" and "teacher's pet." There were new names as well, including the scalding "mudblood." For years of her life, she'd fought to bring to life the wonderful and welcoming world she'd imagined all those years ago.

But she'd failed. Those who wished to separate and exclude the beauty of magic from those considered the weirdos, those who didn't conform, they had won. The people who wished to smuther others were in full power. And it was because of her. Because they had missed one. In all those months of camping in forests, terrified to breathe lest someone hear them, of the seemingly endless fights, the complaints of both boys as Hermione struggled to keep them united and focused, in the final burst of energy when they thought they had won; they missed something, a crucial and critical piece.

But here, among this pack of outsiders, among those with "contaminated blood," she found the unity and welcome she had longed for. Joshua had opened her eyes to it and now, now she was ready to embrace it.

A warm hand lay itself on her exposed shoulder. Hermione's eyes were pulled from the pack and she turned to gaze at the smiling face of Fenrir.

"Hey," she murmured. Her voice cracked slightly from misuse. She turned, her mouth opening to speak to Landon, only to find an empty space next to her. Eyebrows knitting together in confusion, Hermione turned as Fenrir's deep chuckles sounded from beside her.

The hulking man settled himself on the ground next to her, one knee bent, his arm resting over the bend. "Landon told me you'd zoned out, but I didn't realize how far you'd gone." He chuckled once more before studying her. His voice lowered to a gentle murmur, "Where'd you go in that brain of yours?"

Hermione smiled softly. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Finding my home."

Fenrir's eyes followed hers to gaze out over the pack. "You've only met me, Landon, and Joshua. What makes this home?" His voice was soft and careful.

Hermione smiled to herself. "It's the community in a werewolf pack, especially this one. Joshua told me how with a werewolf, they would rather cut off an arm than break a fellow's trust. How they'd give their life immediately if it was needed to protect the pack. Just seeing them now, waiting for the full moon ... they trust each other completely and they'd protect each other no matter what."

Her eyes stung as a picture flashed through her mind: Dumbledore pointing his wand towards her and Ron. _It's for the best._ Tears began falling down Hermione's cheeks, her hand raising to unconsciously brush her fingers across the raised scars on her forearm. "I can't remember when I've been somewhere like that. I don't think I ever have."

A silence fell between them: Hermione gazing out at the pack, tears sliding down her cheeks, fingers feeling the dips and curves of the curséd name; Fenrir watching her face carefully, wondering what image was flashing across her minds-eye.

His clear blue eyes fell to the childish scrawl over her skin. Carefully, Fenrir pushed away her fingers, lifting the arm into his gentle hands. Hermione watched passively as the werewolf brushed his thumbs across the raised skin. Leaning down, Fenrir's lips grazed the skin tenderly. Hermione grew breathless as he kissed each and every letter of the insult. When he lifted his head, his thumbs brushed the pale skin of her forearm.

Hermione's breaths seemed to skip in her chest as her gaze lifted from her arm to his face. Her eyes shifted over his face, soaking in every feature. His sharp jaw was softer in the raising moonlight, his normally subtle cheekbones becoming more pronounced as the light shone on them. His bottom lip was fuller than his top lip; Hermione just wanted to bite it.

Reaching forward with her free hand, Hermione wrapped her fingers in the long, dark strands of his hair. Fenrir lifted his gaze as Hermione pulled him towards her. Her lips touched his gently, her fingers moving in his hair. Fenrir's hand lifted to cup her cheek as he responded. The kiss was tentative and sweet, a small promise to the other.

When they pulled away, Hermione's gaze fixed on Fenrir's April blue eyes. The man smiled and leaned their foreheads together, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. Hermione's fingers remained tangled in his hair, her nails soothingly messaging his scalp.

"What was that for?" Fenrir murmured.

Hermione shrugged. "I've decided to try out my position in this pack."

Fenrir's eyebrows rose. "Oh? And what position is that?"

"You're mate," she murmured.

There was a pause before Fenrir leaned into the small space between their lips, sweetly bestowing another kiss. "That's the best reason in the world." He smiled before untangling himself from her grasp and standing. "The moon's up, everyone should be transforming soon. Call me when yours begins."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "What, I can't change without you trying to sneak a peek?"

Fenrir sighed exasperatedly, walking away with a shake of his head. Hermione laughed to herself before gazing around the pack, watching as the members' muscles began stretching, bones cracking into another form, different colored fur sprouting to cover skin.

A shiver rippled through Hermione's body. Frowning Hermione shifted, trying to shake the shiver, when a burning tingle began at her shoulder; exactly where Fenrir had bitten. The tingle grew to a painful burning sensation, flooding up and down her body, enveloping every muscle and joint and bone.

"F-Fenrir," she gasped out. Her hands braced on the cool ground as she leaned onto her hands and knees. The burning grew and grew until it was a fire blazing through her body. Just as it was becoming unbearable the first bone broke. Her heels snapped off before lengthening upwards, her calves shrinking and squeezing, forming the bow of a wolf's hindlegs.

A scream tore from her throat as her ribs snapped open, stretching and twisting into the expanded rib cage of a wolf. From the edges of her vision, a massive midnight black wolf bounded towards her. The wolf began circling her, surrounding her with his scent as her bones continued to crack and reposition themselves.

Her muscles were stretched and ripped before being down together in different forms, molding to the newly positioned bones. The last thing to shift was Hermione's face. Her eyes burned in their sockets, her ears shifting to the side of her head before pulling into the long, curved ear of a canine. Her jaw snapped downwards before stretching, the bridge of her nose and her upper mouth following her jaw. With one final shriek of pain, Hermione's new face snapped into place, muscles and bones sowing themselves into the new form.

The new wolf collapsed into its stomach, its chest sucking in heaving gasps. Fenrir made a low churring sound as he crouched next to her, pressing his massive body into her shaking figure. His tongue began rasping from between her eyes to between her ears. The she-wolf's breathing began to calm as the steady, rasping tongue of her mate soothed her.

Finally, after catching her breath, Hermione lifted her head from the ground. Her eyes widened as her sight adjusted. She could see everything, every little blade of grass, every leaf as they lay over each other, every little hair on the bodies of the wolves below.

While she gazed around, Fenrir had continued his administrations, imprinting his scent onto her as well as familiarizing himself with her own scent. It was a delicious mixture; wild and brisk, energizing and comfortable. It reminded him of the forest and the natural river water as well as the comfort of a cabin. It was intoxicating.

From below his chin a soft purr sounded before a nose nuzzled his broad, black chest. Moving his head, he purred as he watched Hermione press herself against him. Hermione's wolf was smaller than he was, her body delicately featured but strong and quick. Her fur was a rich chocolate auburn, thick and shiny from her recent change. Her eyes were the same hazelnut color, with gold flecks dancing around. Fenrir buried his face in her neck, taking deep breaths of her scent.

They spent another minute nuzzling and scenting each other before Fenrir reluctantly pulled away. With a lick on her ear, Fenrir pulled his massive body from the ground and took several steps away from Hermione. Turning, he gave a low commanding bark, beckoning with his head to follow him. Hermione yawned and instead of standing like Fenrir wanted, she plopped onto her side in the dirt.

With a huff Fenrir padded to his mate, giving her a questioning look. Hermione's jaws opened in a grin before she rolled onto her back, exposing her soft belly while her jaws hung open playfully. Fenrir nuzzled her on the stomach before shoving her onto her stomach. Hermione let out an annoyed huff but complied when Fenrir shoved his nose between her belly and the ground, shoving upwards to give her the hint.

Groaning as her muscles and bones shifted around, Hermione pulled herself to her paws, swaying slightly. Fenrir stayed by her side until she was steady. With a lick to her muzzle, Fenrir led the way to the rest of the pack. Still shaky on her paws, the she-wolf tentatively picked her way to the pack. A tall, lean sandy-colored wolf grinned and gave a bark as the two approached.

Fenrir touched his muzzle to her forehead, opening the communication link all the pack shared. Hermione jumped as Landon's voice spoke. "Well look who made it! Have a fun journey?"

Hermione threw the sandy-colored wolf a look. "Ha ha, Landon. Do you really have to go through that every month?"

The wolf shrugged. "It gets easier the more you do it. Besides having Fenrir with you will make it easier. Having your mate with you is better."

Hermione glanced over to Fenrir, who was surveying the rest of the pack, making sure everyone had changed. "I have to admit it was comforting to have him with me. But I wouldn't want him to know that. He doesn't need to get a bigger head than he already has."

Landon let out a low chuckle of amusement as Fenrir flicked an ear and an April colored eye in Hermione's direction.

"That's good news to know, thank you." He trotted to her and leaned down to press his muzzle against the startled she-wolf's ear. "And if you're good maybe you can see my other head." With a bite to her ear, Fenrir cantered away to talk to several of his warriors.

Hermione sent a growl in his direction before turning to the laughing Beta. "What the hell are you laughing at?!"

Landon continued to laugh as he spoke. "Oh, your face! That was priceless!"

Hermione growled, shoving him in the shoulder as she trotted past him. She was about to snap at Fenrir when a mahogany colored wolf caught her eye. She barked in his direction and he returned it with a happy little howl. His tail swayed as he trotted to her, jaws open in a grin.

"Well look who made it! How does it feel?" Joshua's joy was a comfort for her.

"It feels ... free, but I'm still getting used to the whole four paws and a tail aspect."

Joshua chuckled. "Yeah, that is a bit of an adjustment." His intelligent green gaze flickered from Fenrir to Hermione curiously. "I saw the little cuddling session after you'd changed. Have you decided?"

Hermione sat back on her hindquarters, her eyes fixing on the massive black wolf instructing a group of warriors. "I don't think I'd ever have rejected someone as a mate. I just wouldn't have been a very _nice_ mate."

Joshua chuckled. "I don't doubt that." A comfortable silence fell in which Hermione watched Fenrir and Joshua watched Hermione. "You feel something special with him. You two are very much the same, you get each other." Joshua wasn't asking a question; he was stating the truth.

Hermione threw him a look. "That's the truth." She heaved a sigh before nodding wolfishly. "I'm going to try to be more relaxed around him. It's not going to happen immediately, but I'll let some of my instincts take over instead of stuffing them down."

Joshua stood and gave her head a gentle lick. "That's a girl. I'm always here to help if you ever need it."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Joshua."

A loud, echoing howl cut through the forest, calling all wolves' attention. Hermione turned to Fenrir who stood with his head held high and his clear blue gaze sweeping across the pack. "Four warriors have been assigned hunting duty. Anyone who wants to join may go with them now." About twenty wolves trotted over to the four assigned warriors. After receiving a nod from Fenrir they turned and disappeared into the forest.

Turning back to the pack, Fenrir indicated four other pack mates. "You four will join the patrols tonight." The wolves bowed their heads before trotting to join their groups. Fenrir indicated five more pack members. "You five will join Travis and Henry in pup and she-wolf protection. The rest of you, do as you like but stay within the borders. Meet back here for the transformation in the morning."

With barks and howls of excitement the werewolves took off into the forest. Only about fifteen wolves remained in the pack grounds, not including the pregnant she-wolves, pups, and their guardians. Landon and Joshua had disappeared as well. Fenrir trotted over to Hermione and nudged her shoulder with his muzzle.

"May I show you the pack lands?"

Hermione snorted but then a smug look filled her eyes. Pressing her body against Fenrir's she arched under his chin, flicking her tail around his jaw as she curled herself around him. Fenrir's body went stiff, his senses entirely focused on his mate.

Hermione tilted her muzzle to his ear, "Don't _ever_ make a comment like that in front of others again." She bit down on his ear with a snarl before letting go and trotting into the forest.

Fenrir let out a howl and bounded after his mate. Hermione let out a howl of her own before taking off into the forest, her jaws open in an elated wolfish grin.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The warmth of the autumn sun shone on Hermione's bare shoulder, heating her skin. The newly turned shewolf opened her eyes and gazed around her field of vision. Bare bodies lay everywhere, mates huddled together, singles spread out, children lying on top of one another, their mouths open in sleep. Hermione shifted her weight, biting her lip to hide a groan as her replaced muscles stretched and pulled sorely.

Her hips shifted as she moved, accidentally sliding a large, heated palm farther down her stomach. Hermione turned her head to fix her sleepy gaze on the strong, muscled arm slung around her waist pulling her against a massive, masculine body. She studied the hand that rested low on her bared stomach. It was large, much like the rest of the body that held her, the fingers long and thick. They reminded her of a carpenter's hands; bear-like and able to maneuver heavy objects, all the while holding a gracefulness that could carve intricate designs.

The brunette smiled to herself, carefully lifting the hand to slide her body from underneath the arm. As she gently set the hand down, her side bunched and pulled, sending a flash of pain through her body. She gave a soft groan and squeezed her eyes shut. Rustling sounded before a familiar hand settled gently on her bare shoulder.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Fenrir's smooth bourbon voice was softer and quieter fresh out of sleep. It still sent a shiver through her back. She lifted her head to answer but froze when a warm liquid began to run down to the curve of her hip.

She bared her teeth. "I think my side pulled open," she grit out. Shifting so her body was straight resulted in the blood trickling down her thigh to drip into the earth.

The sharp yet sweet scent of her blood reached Fenrir's nose and he growled softly. Standing, he slid his arms under Hermione's shoulders and pulled her to her feet. She snarled a little at the sudden movement, her hands instinctively reaching out to grip his biceps. They paused as she took a deep breath.

Fenrir's gaze slid from her face to her torso, momentarily resting in the swell and curve of her exposed breasts before lowering to her slim, half-starved stomach.

"Keep your eyes to yourself Fenrir," a vibrating growl sounded from the woman in front of him.

The man chuckled before slipping his arm around her side, leaning her uninjured side against his. As they began walking towards the Alpha cabin Fenrir lowered his mouth to Hermione's ear. "How can I keep my eyes to myself when such a sexy shewolf is standing before me?"

Hermione snorted. "I'm leaning against your side, arsehole."

Fenrir chuckled. "Well either way it's hard."

"We all must do hard things. Better get used to it you big baby." Hermione's comebacks sounded a little strained to Fenrir.

He glanced down worriedly at the witch, watching her face as she walked. She was limping with her injured side, obviously the step pulling at the skin even more. Soon enough his protective side couldn't take it anymore. Pulling her to a stop, Fenrir bent down and scooped her into his arms. She grunted as her body position switched but she didn't resist.

As he began walking she leaned her head against his shoulder, relaxing into his grip. Fenrir began to turn his head to flash her a smile but her hand snaked out to shove his face forward again. "I said keep your eyes to yourself. Don't make me fight you again."

Fenrir raised an eyebrow. "You sound so confident."

"I am," she shot back. "After all I almost beat you last time. I only stopped for your Alpha dignity."

Fenrir gave an incredulous laugh. "Oh _that's_ what happened?"

"Exactly."

The werewolf shook his head, long, dark hair fanning his face. "Whatever helps you sleep Aisling." Hermione quirked her eyebrow but didn't comment.

When Fenrir stepped into the cabin doorway, he gently shoved the beautifully carved door open with his shoulder. Fenrir's scent filled her nose, fresh forest and a purely masculine scent. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. Along with the Alpha's scent came the faint smell of wood, worn blankets, the protective, comforting smell of jeans, and the soft, warm smell of tshirts and flannels. It was a male's home with all that he needed housed inside.

Walking over to the bed, Fenrir gently deposited the witch onto her uninjured side, baring the reopened wound to his view. Blood still pooled at the harsh movements she had made, the liquid of life having run down her side to her hip and over her thigh. Grabbing a towel from a hook the massive man settled himself next to Hermione.

The brunette watched as the man next to her began carefully rubbing the blood from her hip. Closing her eyes, Hermione opened her senses. She could feel the heat eminating from the body sitting centimeters from her. Fenrir's knee just barely grazed her stomach as he leaned over her side.

Hermione's ears tuned into the steady, beating rhythm of the werewolf's heart. The corner of her lip pulled up in a smirk at the subtle quickening of his heart rate.

The wolf stirred in the back of Hermione's mind, whining for her to pull the man closer, to press their warm skin to each other. Keening, the wolf wanted her to melt into his massive strength, to surround herself with his body, addict herself to his scent. Hermione took a shaky breath, trying to calm the increasing pulls towards the man in front of her.

Opening her now glowing eyes, Hermione's golden stare began raking over Fenrir's body. Her lips pulled up in appreciation of the carved lion that knelt over her; his shoulders were broad and built, and as she already knew, quite comfortable. His arms rippled one muscle to the other, but it wasn't grotesque, just enough to see the clear outlines of his strong arms. His forearms were tight and smooth, veins running elegantly down to his wrist before vanishing into his gentle, carpenter hands.

Lifting her eyes again, Hermione gazed at his chest, all tight, heated muscle. His skin was a light shade of sun kissed bronze, not quite its normally sunbathed gold. As Hermione's gaze lowered, her stomach began quivering. She really wanted to run her fingers down those delicious dents, running from the top of his hip, down toward the prize jewels. That V formation made Hermione's mouth go dry.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione took a deep shaky breath. Turning her head so that she could focus on Fenrir's face, the witch tried to regain control of her now heated body. She opened her eyes to meet the darkening gaze of the werewolf crouched over her hips. His nostrils flared with his heavy breathing.

"You're a devil, you know that?" His voice was low, rumbling and silky with desire. Dropping to his side, Fenrir branded his weight on one elbow, his free hand lifting to entangle in Hermione's wild curls. With a lusty purr, the man captured Hermione's lips.

A whimper pulled from the witch's chest as the werewolf hungrily suckled her mouth. Hermione responded with just as much passion, her hand lifting to grasp the long, dark locks at the base of Fenrir's skull. With a shove, Fenrir was pushed to his back, Hermione leaning over his chest, mouth locked with his. Her hand tugged until a delicious sting swept across Fenrir's skull. He growled into her lips, free hand wrapping around Hermione's back.

A flushing heat washed across Hermione's body. Fenrir's addicting scent swirled around her, his warm body firm underneath her own. The wolf, formally pacing in the back of her mind, began shoving at the shifting wall around it. It begged to be released and have its way with the hulking, delicious werewolf devouring her mouth.

Hermione's leg lifted, bent at the knee, to hook around the perfect slant of Fenrir's hips. Her flushed core was aching close to Fenrir's straining cock. The open position of the she-wolf's legs let the rich, enticing scent of her arousal invade the air. The scent was practically visible to Fenrir, swirling in hypnotic patterns around his head.

A furious, frustrated snarl startled Hermione as Fenrir's mouth jerked from her own and she found herself flat on her back. Her wrists were pinned above her head, thick, muscled legs pressing against her sides. Fenrir snarled above Hermione's head. His dark hair hung in a frame around his twisted face. Those beautiful April blue eyes were squeezed shut.

"Fen-?" She began.

"DON'T!" His breath was so rattling, Hermione was amazed he pulled any oxygen into his lungs. A tense moment passed before his features relaxed ever so slightly. His eyes remained shut. "Not now Hermione, you're bleeding and sore from the transformation. I can't-"

Hermione let out a snapping growl. "Open your eyes Fenrir!"

The Alpha growled at the tone in her voice but he obeyed. His eyes were still dark but he made sure to focus solely on her face.

Hermione searched his face critically. "I get it. I'm a little hurt, a little bloody, a little sore. Great observation there, bud." Sarcasm dripped from each word. The man bared his teeth above her but she ignored him. "But I know exactly what I want. Trust me, I don't just give myself to anyone out of kindness. This," she hooked her knee back over his hip. The difference in position meant her leg went higher, her hips opening further. Fenrir's nostrils flared and his eyes went pitch black. "This is what I want."

One of the beautiful hands holding her wrists released to wrap around her thigh. Hermione watched Fenrir's eyes as his hand slid to wrap underneath her thigh. He paused, searching her eyes before lifting it higher. His hips slid down, rearing up for a second before grinding downwards.

Hermione's snog-red mouth dropped open as Fenrir ground his cock against her core, the rigged flesh strumming her pleasure button. Her leg tightened around his hip as he pulled back up. Agonizingly slow, he repositioned, black eyes watching the way Hermione's eyes flicked between gold and black with pleasure.

With a smirk, he rolled his hips downwards again, this time hovering enough to grind a second time across her inviting heat. A strangled moan sounded from the witch below him. Fenrir repositioned himself again, but then his body went rigged. The only movement was Hermione's quickly rising and falling chest as she breathed.

"Fenrir?" Another moment of silence passed, Hermione frowning up at the statue of a man. "Fenrir, what's wrong?" Her voice held an impatient growl.

The werewolf's lip curled in a snarl before he leapt off of Hermione and rushed to his closet. Jerking the door open, he shoved clothes over, pulling out jeans and a long sleeved shirt for himself. Grabbing a pair of oversized boxers and a comfortable tshirt, he threw them to the bed.

"Get dressed, quickly. Death Eaters are approaching." His voice was quiet with warning.

Hermione immediately pulled herself up, grimacing as her side gave a painful throb. The warmth of blood sliding down the slice sent a shudder through Hermione, her body still hypersensitive. With a wave of her hand, Hermione wandlessly Scurgified her arousal. Turning to Fenrir she flicked her hand in his direction, cleaning him as well before turning it the bleeding slice in her side.

Just as her hand raised, Fenrir's palm clapped around her wrist again. "Don't!"

The witch frowned at him. "Why?"

With a sigh Fenrir bent to grab a roll of bandages from beneath the bed. "That spell was obviously meant to inflict damage. Those types of spells are usually laced with another spell to stop rapid healing by magic. It has to heal normally or else it will rip deeper."

Hermione gave a frustrated snarl, eyes flashing. " _Thanks_ arsehole."

Fenrir raised a dark eyebrow, sinking to his knees in front of Hermione. The position put his face in line with the she-wolf's hips. His nostrils flared and a smirk pulled at his lips; He could still smell the arousal sitting inside her body. The reminder of her rich, agonizingly delicious scent sent a shiver of desire through his massive body.

Fenrir's warm hands brushed against her stomach as he began wrapping her side tightly. "And why am I an arsehole _this_ time?" He remarked, focusing back onto the current situation.

Hermione shook her head, her hands unconsciously weaving into the werewolf's thick black hair. Her nails began gently scratching at his scalp, combing through his hair while messaging his skull. A purring rumble sounded from his chest.

The corner of Hermione's lips pulled up. "I wasn't referring to you. Just thanking the bastard that threw the spell my way."

Fenrir's hands paused along her stomach, the tips of his fingers pressing to her hot skin. He bared his teeth, eyes fixed on the curve of her hips, unable to meet her eyes. "You know who did it don't you?"

A deep, sad sigh blew from her lungs. "I was looking right into his eyes."

Eyes flashing, Fenrir quickly finished the bandage and stood. His eyes fixed on Hermione's vibrant hazel gaze. Gently, he rested his palm against her cheek, thumb stroking the smooth skin. His eyes saddened at the anger, sorrow, and betrayal swimming in her eyes. It was there for only a moment before she shoved it back into her head.

Hermione smiled grimly. "It's something for later on. Right now we need to see why these Death Eaters are intruding."

Fenrir's thumb stroked her cheek once more. Leaning down, the Alpha pressed his lips to Hermione's in a sweet, protective kiss. Hermione responded gently. Pulling away, Fenrir leaned his forehead against his mate's.

"Transfigure those clothes into something more your size, then come out to join me. I have the feeling it isn't me they are here for."

Hermione sighed, nodding against his forehead. "I will." There was a pause, both werewolves soaking in each other's warmth, noses filling with the other's scent, but soon Fenrir had to tear himself away from the she wolf. With one last lingering look, the massive man left the cabin.

Hermione transfigured Fenrir's boxers into a pair of black knickers, slipping the large, comfortable tshirt overtop. Glancing around, Hermione found a leather thong sitting on the floor. Pulling the mass of her curls into her hands, she twisted it around into a messy bun, wrapping the thong around the base and tying it off. With one last shaky sigh, the brunette stepped out of the cabin.

Following the sounds of murmuring voices, Hermione ended up at the edge of the clearing, the cool shades of the forest soothing her quivering nerves. As she approached, her eyes raked the scene: Fenrir stood with his arms crossed, making his large frame seem even bigger and more intimidating.

A little smirk pulled at Hermione's lips. Hardening her features, the witch turned her gaze towards the Death Eaters. Four stood silently, their wands drawn, knuckles white as they clutched the carved sticks of wood. All four were dressed in the familiar long black cloaks, their faces and identies hidden behind silver masks.

Only one stood without a mask, his cloak simply fastened around his shoulders, open to revel the dark crimson suit underneath. Long, wavy strands of hair fell over the cruel features of Antonin Dolohov. The Russian wizard smirked and made an overly elaborate bow in her direction.

"Exactly the little witch we came to see! How's life on the wild side, _Suka_?" The curl of Dolohov's lips sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. Never before had Hermione felt like Little Red Riding Hood. She said in a werewolf pack.

Hermione lifted her chin. "Freeing. The scent of fear is particularly enticing. So smooth and..." she twirled her hand artistically as she searched for the word.

Antonin smiled. "Velvety?" He volunteered.

Hermione bared her teeth in a vicious grin. "Exactly!"

Several of the Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, fingers wrapping and unwrapping nervously around their wands. Fenrir glanced down at Hermione, and in the brief glance he flicked his eyebrow up questioningly. She grinned and turned back to the Death Eaters.

Antonin leaned against a tree and pulled out his wand, twirling it through his fingers casually. "As much fun as this is, we need you to come with us, _Gryaznokrovka_."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the name. Mudblood in Russian, especially coming from Antonin's lips, was not a pleasant situation. "Why exactly do you need me? I mean I know I'm intelligent but have you really run out of brain cells already?"

Antonin bared his teeth angrily. "Cut the lip _Suka_ or you'll end up in a worse situation then you already are. Now move your ass, the Dark Lord wants you."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**

 ***Cautiously hands chapter over. Backs away slowly before running out of the room.***

Chapter 7

Hermione rolled her eyes as Antonin locked chains around her wrists. They stood in the entrance hall of Riddle Manor, Hermione, Fenrir, and Antonin, waiting to be called in by the Dark Lord. Several Death Eaters stood with them, gazes fixed on the werewolf Mudblood witch standing amongst them.

"Is this really necessary, Antonin? I'm not going to attack unless you give me a reason. Not that you guys haven't given me plenty of reasons-"

"Do you ever shut up, _Suka_?" The Russian wizard monotoned.

Hermione snaked her neck towards him, snapping her teeth dangerously close to his throat. The man reared back, caution flashing breifly in his dark gaze. The look made the witch smirk. Antonin Dolohov was almost exactly the same height as Fenrir, meaning they both held more than a foot of height on her.

The cheeky smirk on Hermione's lips made the Russian wizard sneer angrily. The tinkling of the chains in his hands was the only warning Hermione got before using them to jerk her into his chest.

Antonin chuckled darkly, a massive hand darting out to grip the brunette's chin. "I'd watch who you give that attitude to. We're not opposed to torturing a pretty little _gryaznokrovka_." His thumb lifted to trace over her still kiss-red lips.

Hermione's eyes blazed. "I can personally attest to your _hospitality_!" She bucked her head away from his prying fingers.

Antonin smirked. "You really do have a fighting spark. I love to break those." With a swift movement, Antonin pulled the chain around Hermione's neck, lifting her chained hands against her throat. He twisted her body so she was flush against his front. Antonin lowered his face to the crook of her neck, warm lips pressing against her ear.

The man smiled against her skin as he rocked his body against her. She froze at the feel of a hard lump rubbing against the curve of her back. The hand not holding the chains, slid agonizingly towards the hem of the shirt Hermione wore.

Hermione opened her eyes and met the furious, black gaze of Fenrir. She could feel the faint thread of Magic connecting their minds. Her eyes flashed briefly. _Don't make a move. You still have to_ _play the loyal follower. You can take it out on me when we're back._

Antonin's fingers slipped underneath the hem to glide across the bare skin of the shewolf's lower stomach. A vibrating growl came from the massive werewolf in front of the couple. Fenrir's eyes were quickly bleeding black, his gaze flicking between Antonin's fingers and the vicious look the Russian wizard shot towards the notorious werewolf.

Hermione jerked in an attempt to escape when the wizard began pulling the shirt up her stomach. The Death Eater's surrounding them chuckled darkly as the little Mudblood's body was slowly revealed. The wizards' eyes fixed on the bandage around her stomach for a moment before lifting to watch the shirt slide higher. Antonin froze when the shirt reached the ribs below her breasts. His hand disappeared into the fabric, roughly grabbing and squeezing the flesh.

Hermione's eyes turned bright gold. She jerked in his hold, twisting and kicking in an attempt to escape. She managed to twist her arms and body, slipping out of the Death Eater's grip. She faced the smirking wizard, his hand still holding the chains.

"Oh come on _suka_ , it was just a little fun. What's so bad about that?" He crooned.

Fenrir stepped forwards but Hermione whipped her head towards him with a vicious growl. "You stay out of this!"

The werewolf growled at her but the witch refused to relent. "The Dark Lord needs one obedient pet!" She spat the words at him.

Before anymore could be said, the massive oak doors of the ballroom swung open, creaking from the weight of the wood. Antonin jerked the chains attached to Hermione's wrists and walked her through.

The shewolf's head turned to glance around her as they walked. The ballroom was about fifty feet wide and a hundred feet long. Dark marble columns ran down the room. The Greacian pillars were positioned a couple feet from the walls, leaving a wide center to dance and interact with.

The walls were a green-grey shade, reminicent of a forest at dusk. The floor was a silvery stone, slippery and smooth; perfect for dancing. At the end of the hall a tall dark throne stood viciously amongst the beauty of the room. It seemed to be made of bending and twisting thorns, sharp and piercing and pitch black.

Draped across the throne, the unnaturally white figure of Voldemort waited. Several other followers were lined up, heads down, wands drawn and pressed against their legs submissively.

A figure knelt on the floor in front of the throne, dark brown hair long and hanging over his neck. The body was tall with broad shoulders and long limbs. As they approached Hermione noted that the figure was hungrily thin, his shoulder blades sharp against his covering.

The figure's shirt hung off of their body like extra skin, the neck falling off his shoulders. From underneath the collar, dark bruises glared possessively. Finger marks and scratches peeked out from the baggy fabric before disappearing around his shoulders, neck, and down his back.

A few feet from the figure, Hermione's brain clicked. A whimper escaped her lips before she took off towards the figure. Antonin wrapped the chains around both of his hands, bracing himself before pulling back roughly. Hermione yelled in fury, pain lancing through her already abused shoulders.

The Death Eaters that had waited outside the doors continued forward, kneeling before the throne before assuming the submissive positions along the columns. Fenrir followed suit, his eyes briefly catching Hermione's as he passed.

The Dark Lord's vivid red eyes hesitated on Fenrir, his thin white lips pulling up in a chilling little smile. Without turning his face, a long elegant hand lifted to gesture towards Antonin. "Release the Mudblood. Let her see her friend."

Antonin unwound the chains and Hermione ran towards the collapsed figure. She knelt next to him, shuffling around to face the young man. Her hands lifted slowly, chains rattling as she cupped the young man's cheeks.

The figure's head lifted slightly. "Hermione?" The voice was quiet and raw.

Hermione bit her lip, shaking her head sadly. "Oh Neville..."

"Hermione," the young man's voice had grown stronger. With a nearly silent sob Neville threw his arms around the young witch in front of him.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his shaking figure, her fingers gently rubbing up and down his back. She murmured soothingly into his ear. Her heightened senses made her aware of the slight tremors underneath his skin along his muscles, as well as the flinches on his skin along certain areas.

She closed her eyes as the reminder of the scratches, bruises, and finger prints flashed through her mind's-eye. The two friends clung to each other for another moment. Voldemort watched them curiously before nodding towards Thorfinn Rowle and Adrian Pucey. The two hulking Death Eaters each picked up a chain. Together they wrenched at Hermione's arms, snatching her from Neville's hold.

The young man gave a yell, a hand reaching for the young witch as she was pulled away. The two Death Eaters threw a spell to the floor and holding rings appeared. After attaching the chains to their ring, they returned to their places along the walls.

Neville moved to stand but a quick movement from Voldemort froze him. The snake-like man stepped from his throne, gliding down towards the pair. Hermione bared her teeth when the Dark Lord circled her. When the once human creature had made a round, he stopped and elegantly lowered himself to the floor in front of her.

The shewolf shivered as her eyes met the blood red gaze of the half-man. He tilted his head then turned his body so that his side was touching her outstretched arm. His head turned to face Neville, the young man's hand still outstretched for his friend.

Voldemort turned back to Hermione and a smile pulled at his thin lips. "Curious what a few acts of cruelty came accomplish. For some it can enrage them to a point of superhuman ability. For others it simply becomes second nature. Yet for those, such as Neville here," a thin, delicate hand indicated the mentioned wizard. "For those it can shatter them. I mean look what a little," he paused and gestured dramatically as he pretended to search for the right words. "Foreplay for my followers did to him. I mean _that_ plus a little sexual enlightenment."

Voldemort had to shift into his black mist form in order to retreat fast enough. Hermione's roar was deafening as it echoed in the ballroom. A few snaps, cracks, and pops sounded and then a fully formed werewolf was tugging at her chains. The links creaked as they began to bend under the shewolf's strength.

Voldemort bared his teeth and threw a spell towards the chains. A wash of magic rippled down the links. Hermione yowled, shrinking from the chains before the magic forced her back into human form.

The snake-like man snarled furiously, whipping towards a cloaked Death Eater. "Get me Draco Malfoy!" The wizard bowed and ran off to find the young man.

Hermione clamped her teeth down on her tongue in an attempt to hold back the cry of pain that kept to her lips. Irony blood slid down her throat as she tried to breathe through the pain. The transformation had ripped her side even further. A shutter ran down her back as the hot blood began pooling against the bandage and slipping underneath the wraps to drip down her side.

Fenrir's brows drew together as his gaze caught the shallow, shaky breaths and lidded eyes on his mate. Reaching out with his nose the scent of her blood sent a ripple through his body. His muscles all seemed to swell as a wave of protection flooded his head.

Dropping his arms from his chest, the massive man moved towards the crumpled witch. Voldemort immediately whipped his wand towards the werewolf.

"Move your ass back to your place." His voice was quiet but the underlying lilt spoke of a danger.

Fenrir's eyes fixed on the lithe, snake-like body pointing a wand into his chest. "As much as she is labeled a Mudblood, she's been made my pack and thus my responsibility. I need to check on her; trust me, I wouldn't if I could control myself."

Voldemort's shifting red eyes narrowed as he studied the broad chested, muscled werewolf in front of him. With a grimace the Dark Lord lowered his wand and flicked his head in Hermione's direction.

"Be quick about it. You have until the junior Malfoy gets here."

Fenrir bowed his head before walking with as much patience as he could. Hermione's eyes opened when his heavy footfalls neared. She watched, expressionless, as he knelt in front of her. Thought her face did not move, her body began trembling, her breathing becoming rapid as his scent reached towards her.

A small ripple ran across their mental connection. _Is it your side?_

Hermione gazed at his face before nodding, a minuscule jerk of her head. Fenrir's jaw tightened, his face appearing sharper with the move. His large, warm hand slipped underneath the front of her borrowed shirt. She shuttered when his fingertips touched against her lower stomach.

The smallest smile tugged his lips before disappearing as he carefully slid his fingers to her side. She gave a short cry as he reached the weeping wound. A vibrating growl emitted from his chest as he felt the amount of blood seeping through the bandages.

 _That was a stupid move._ He chastised her while still feeling the width of the damage. _You know that shifting pulls this_.

Hermione let out the breath she'd held. _It was instinctive_. She snapped her teeth at his ear, making him lift his head so their eyes connected. _I can't leave Neville here. I will not let him be hurt again_.

The deadly look in her eyes startled Fenrir. _Be patient. You can't help anyone if you act on every emotional swing._

Hermione bared her teeth but the raise of a dark eyebrow had her looking away, annoyed.

 _Hermione_. Even in her head his voice was quiet and almost tender. She turned her head back to him. His eyes searched her face for a moment. _You have to take care of yourself before you help others_.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Fenrir's gaze flicked to her mouth. A hand lifted to cup her cheek. His thumb gently pulled the plump flesh from her teeth. His thumb returned to softly brush across her jaw.

With a grimacing smile the werewolf pulled away and stood. The hot warmth of his hand left her side, leaving her feeling cold. His palm was painted in her blood when he stood. Without a second thought, he pressed his palm into his pants leg, hiding the sign of weakness from the hyenas viciously waiting for an opening.

As Fenrir returned to his place, the ballroom doors opened again and the vivid white blonde locks of a Malfoy hurried down the hall. Draco Malfoy already looked older than the last time Hermione had seen him. His shock of hair hung over his eyes, long enough to reach his shoulders. Dark grey circles deepened his eye sockets. His skin was ashy grey and drawn along his cheeks.

The young man's grey eyes flicked to the two figures on the floor. As their eyes connected, a familiarity sparked between the two of them. Hermione immediately knew; he was a werewolf. Better yet, he was one of Greyback's. Draco turned his attention to his Lord and knelt on one knee in front of the sneering creature.

Draco raised an arm across his chest in a salute. "My Lord, you called?"

Voldemort began fingering his wand threateningly. "When I enquired about a weak period for a werewolf, you informed me that the day after a shift was the weakest."

With snake-like speed, the inhuman Lord gripped Draco's chin and snapped his head in Hermione's direction. "Then how, in Hades name, was _she_ able to shift to attack?!" As he yelled the final words, he roughly threw the young man to the floor.

With a snarled "Crucio!" familiar sounds filled the ballroom. Draco' back arched unnaturally, his muscles spasming, resulting in quick, painful jerks of his limbs. A strangled cry slipped from his clenched lips.

After several minuets, Voldemort released the spell, spitting down onto the quivering body. His head snapped around towards his followers. "Does anybody know the explanation to this?!" The Death Eaters all dropped their heads, cowering underneath their Lord's anger.

"It's quite simple actually." Hermione's voice broke through the silence.

The snake-man slowly turned towards the witch. "And _what_ would be so simple?"

Hermione smirked. "It's because he's not with his pack. He's basing his information off of what he himself has experienced. Malfoy hasn't transformed with a pack, therefore, it is _his_ weakest moment. But not a werewolf with a pack."

Voldemort's jaw worked underneath his moist, white skin. Gripping his wand, the inhuman creature sent another Crucio at Draco. The young man had not expected the move and the spell caught him off guard. Draco's screams echoed off of the high ceilings.

Hermione cringed, waiting for the agonizing minuets to pass by. The Dark Lord released the spell and stalked back to his throne. Hermione watched him from the corner of her eye. A heavy sigh was released from the thin lips. Fabric was dramatically tossed into the air as the body settled, draped across the chair of sharp points.

A thick silence fell over the massive ballroom. Even after almost thirty minuets of torture, Draco knew better to make a sound. His entire body shook like a doll, his muscles still flexing at random.

Another heavy sigh came from the throne before the smooth, hypnotic voice began in a much calmer tone. "There was a real reason that I brought you here Mudblood. You see we've been following the remainder of the Order of the Pheonix, maybe you remember them." He watched her form for any movement before continuing.

"They seem to be circling in on a certain location, bouncing from safe house to safe house and always leaving, conveniently, moments before we arrive. Any idea how this happens?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow elegantly. "You _really_ expect me to give you information in the Order of the Pheonix?" She gave an incredulous burst of laughter. "You really are as mad as they say."

Voldemort's eyes flashed. "We will return to the question of my sanity on a later date."

Hermione grinned balefully. " _Oooh_ I can't wait for that discussion!"

Voldemort bared his teeth. Another Cruciartius curse crackled through the air, this time directed at a witch chained to the floor. Hermione refused to scream, instead a strangled gurgling emitted from her throat. As the spell was released, she collapsed to the floor, panting and quivering from the torture.

The haunting figure lounging across the throne twirled his wand casually. "Now, be reasonable darling. We both know you hold no warm feelings towards the Order. Perhaps we can help each other."

The witch shoved herself to her feet, pausing as she locked her quaking knees in place. "First: it's not the Order I don't care for, it's their leader I find fault with. And second: there is no way in Hades' undercarriage that you would help me! No matter what information I might have!" Hermione's words were snarled.

Voldemort grinned. "Such language from such a delicate flower." The shewolf lunged at the end of her chains, growling as she tested the bent links.

With a haughty flash, a long, white hand beckoned a Death Eater towards the slumped figure sitting silently in front of the Mudblood. Hermione's breathing increased as the man approached Neville. The young man's eyes grew fearful as the Death Eater fisted the brown locks at the back of his head and tugged Neville's head upwards.

Hermione snarled in the Death Eater's direction before whirling around to face the smirking Lord. "What do you want, you fucking pig?" Rage crackled in the air surrounding the young woman.

Voldemort gave a dramatic performance of shock. "But you said there was nothing I could do to convince you. So I was turning to my new victim since you don't have anything interesting to say." He snapped his delicate fingers together.

The Death Eater gripping Neville smirked and raised his wand towards Neville's throat. The young man squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a single broken sob, before steeling himself for the oncoming torture.

"Stop!" Her cries sounded as a spell flew from the man's wand into Neville's skin. A ragged scream tore from his lips. His thin body began jerking to get away from the spell, his shirt falling farther down his malnourished body, revealing the larger, angrier bruises that had been hiding.

"FINE!! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT!! JUST LET HIM GO!!"

Voldemort raised an elegant hand. Neville's screams faded into quiet sobs. Hermione's chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths.

A cruel smile twisted the creature's face. "Good girl. I knew you could be convinced."

Hermione dropped her head, long chocolate curls falling to cover her face. Neville's torturer returned to his spot along the wall.

"The best way to find the Order is to send a group to their current location and have a second group waiting at their awaiting location. Where did you last find them?" Her voice was subdued, drained of any emotion.

Voldemort watched her for a moment before answering. "Our last and closest meet up was in Leeds. There was a small battle but they escaped. I passed on the news of your capture to Dumbledore by the way." The noiseless face scrunched around the missing feature as he smiled. "He sent a message back; 'Remember, it's for the best. Fill in the blanks.'"

Hermione bared her teeth. "Next time you see him tell him Hermione sends her love and hopes he'll enjoy the remaining time he has on this side of the veil."

Voldemort and several of his followers chuckled at her words. "If you weren't a nauseating Mudblood you would be a nice addition to my collection."

The young woman rolled her eyes. "They're most likely at Sheffold, 17 Surrey Street. You'll want to wait at Bath, 23 Byron Road."

A slow chilling smile pulled across the snake's thin lips. "Thank you my dear. See? It wasn't that hard."

Hermione locked gazes with the man. In the milliseconds between his snap and the apperition of the followers and their leader, Hermione murmured a spell that sent a bolt of red light from the ballroom.

With a resounding crack, the ballroom was suddenly empty except for Hermione, Neville, Draco, and Fenrir. The exhaustion of a wandless spell struck Hermione and she fell to her knees. At the sudden disappearance of the Death Eaters, Fenrir dropped his arms and moved towards his mate.

Strong arms wrapped around Hermione's trembling figure, warm lips pressing against her temple comfortingly. She released a deep breath, leaning into Fenrir's warm body.

After a moment, Draco pulled himself to his feet, wobbling precariously before regaining his balance. Hermione cracked a weary eye open to watch the silver haired young man.

"Draco." He started at her voice, turning towards her with a vulnerable expression. She gave him a soft smile. "If you ever need us, you have your pack to come to. You always have a choice to shift with us. You are one of us."

Fenrir tilted his head to give Draco a look with his April blue gaze. "You are welcome anytime, Pup."

Draco's tense features relaxed slightly, returning his face to someone closer to eighteen. "Thank you," he murmured.

Hermione smiled before turning to press her face into Fenrir's chest. "The Dark Lord is going to be back soon with a vengeance. I gave them the right information but I also ensured the Order was warned and transported to somewhere new, outside of their original plan."

Fenrir lowered his head, pushing his forehead against the top of his mate's hair. "Hermione-!"

"I know, I know! But I can't let them hurt everyone. Just because I would love to bend Albus in half-" She gave a little groan, bending from Fenrir's arms to press her forehead against the cool of the ballroom.

"Hermione!" Neville staggered from the floor and ran to the slumped girl. Dropping to his knees in front of her, his cool hands took her face and lifted it. Hermione grimaced, trying to take shallow breaths so the pain in her side would go away.

Neville locked gazes with Fenrir and his eyes hardened. "What happened?"

Fenrir studied the young man before answering. "In the Battle of Hogwarts she was struck with a powerful spell. It was meant to kill her but she moved." His hand reached around Hermione torso to pull up the edge of the shirt. The fabric was beginning to soak with blood. "It keeps ripping back open but we can't use magic to heal it."

Neville dropped his hands from Hermione's face and shifted to inspect the injury. The brunette leaned against the werewolf's chest, relaxing as his warmth seeped into her skin, his scent filled her nose with every breath. Neville began touching around the wound, feeling where the tearing began and how much bleeding had occurred.

Draco walked over to her side, curiosity getting the better of him. As Neville touched lower down her hip, a strangled cry escaped Hermione's throat. Her eyes squeezed shut before they could see the pain induced flashing. Fenrir's grip tightened and a low, meanacing growl escaped his lips. He hadn't been able to step to her defense with the Dark Lord and now the wolf was pacing at the front of his mind, pushing at every opportunity to come out and rip into someone for hurting his mate.

Neville lifted his blood covered hands in innocence. His eyebrows were raised at the snarling werewolf. "I'm just trying to see the extent of the damage. I'm not purposefully hurting her."

Fenrir's lips was still curled but he could feel his hackles lowering, the truth and genuine concern in his eyes evident.

Hermione gave an exhausted little laugh, her eyes still squeezed closed. "Fen, you know he's right. Relax _Amoureux_."

Fenrir's lip relaxed but his eyebrows lifted as he turned to look down at his mate. "What did you just call me?"

Hermione's lips pulled into a smirk, though her eyes were still closed. " _Amoureux_. It's French."

Fenrir's eyes narrowed. "First, you speak French? Second, what does that mean in French?"

A small chuckle escaped her lips. "Yes I do and I'll leave that to your imagination."

Fenrir groaned as Hermione laughed gingerly. Neville smiled before reaching for her shirt again. "I think I know an herb that can be used in a salve to close this up in a couple days. It's called Kelpgaro. It's a small yellow vine that grows on oak trees pixies use to shed their wings. You simply dry the leaves and then crush it into a powder before mixing it with a standard cut salve. Should immediately begin working. Because it can heal magical cuts, people usually try to hide its existence."

Hermione pulled her eyes open. Reaching out, she grasped the young man's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you Neville. I'll remember to tell the healer that."

Neville smiled and looked down. "It's nothing. I'm just helping in anyway I can. I wish I could be helping the Order right now." A mournful look passed his sallow features.

Hermione dropped his hand to grab his chin. Lifting his face from his chest Hermione gave him a deadly serious look. "Promise me you'll rest and heal before you go out on any field missions."

Neville's brows furrowed in confusion. "Hermione what are you-?"

"Promise me!" Her tone was unwavering, eyes steely as she watching him struggle for an explanation. At his vigorous nod, she gave a satisfied grunt. Her eyes raked over his features once more before leaving foreword and pressing her lips to his forehead.

Neville's eyes closed as brotherly affection flooded his tired and beaten body. "Take care of yourself Neville," she murmured against his forehead. Still holding his head, Hermione glanced over to Fenrir and Draco. "Back up. Pretend you're running to stop me."

Both man opened their mouths to object but Hermione snapped. "Do it! Or you both will be tortured!" Her yell shocked both men. Her gaze flew to Draco. "You need to keep yourself safe. You can't take anymore torture." Her eyes flashed gold as she flicked her gaze to Fenrir. "You have a pack to protect. Think of them before you think of me. You need to play his pet or else you risk everyone."

Hermione's heart began racing as she felt the shimmering of magic in the air. "DO IT NOW!" Both men ran to the sides of the room before running toward her like they were hurry to stop her.

Turning back to Neville, she cupped her hands to his face. Squeezing her eyes shut, she began muttering. Her words grew louder and louder as the air around her crackled with magic. The pop of apperition sounded as she shouted the last words.

Draco and Fenrir reached her as Neville disappeared with a blinding flash. The shock wave caused by the power of the wandless spell threw everyone back. Hermione gazed up at the ballroom ceiling, her vision going blurry as she lay on her back. Distantly, warm blood was running down her side, beginning to pool underneath her body.

From across the room Voldemort's shriek of fury pierced terror into the hearts of his followers. Hermione closed her eyes and released a deep breath. Neville was safe, Draco and Fenrir knew they had to play their parts. The Order was not gone. They still had a chance to reverse Hermione's mistakes.

"Just focus on the good," she murmured to herself as the first torture spell flew towards her body.


	8. Chapter 8

***Sneaks into the room. Slides a chapter over the desk. Runs away with a shield to protect her.***

 **Promise the next chapter will contain heat between our two wolves**

Chapter 8

A cool, night breeze blew through the pack grounds, rustling the trees. The forest seemed to be breathing as they rocked, their branches pulsing like a heartbeat. Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed her senses, opening up to everything around her.

A deer stalked deep in the forest, pausing to listen, his head weighted down with massive, curving antlers. On the other side of the pack grounds, among the forest trees, an owl was scanning with his bulbous eyes, watching for any sign of prey. The clear rush of the nearby river broke through the relative silence of night.

With a contented sigh, Hermione turned her senses closer. Four sets of paws padded around the clearing, guards watching their pack protectively. A smirk pulled at her lips when her ears picked up heavy breathing and moans coming from one of the cabins. With a shake of her head she turned to something else. In another cabin, a shewolf sang quietly to a whimpering baby, quietly lulling the child to sleep.

Opening her eyes, the brunnette tilted her head back, baring her neck while she gazed up at the sky. The break in foliage revealed the wide expanse of the night sky, stars blinking lazily at each other. The moon was a sliver of a smile, grinning down at the earth below. Splashes of dark purple and streams of silvery light broke the vast darkness, creating a breathtaking painting.

Hermione's heart tugged. She had a sudden need to lean back against Fenrir's chest, to settle herself against his body as they gazed upwards. But he wasn't there. It was only Hermione, the forest, and the grinning moon.

After Hermione's meeting with Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord began questioning Fenrir's loyalty. To determine his stance, Voldemort had ordered Fenrir on a lengthy mission. For nearly two weeks the notorious werewolf had been scouting and recruiting to banish the Dark Lord's suspicions.

Though she was still accepting her role as mate, Hermione had found herself longing for the massive man. There were moments, such as now, when she would imagine them together, his arms wrapped around her, their bodies pressed together.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to calm her ache. Her hands began shaking harder in her lap. Even after two weeks, Hermione's body still quivered with the after effects of her torture. Her hands shook constantly. When she became stressed the rest of her body would being quaking.

Hermione tensed as her ears picked up approaching footsteps.

"It's just me," a gentle, accented voice rumbled. The shewolf relaxed as Joshua approached carefully. Even though she trusted him, his quick eyes caught the way she tilted her head to better listen. Her encounter had left her jumpy and alert.

Joshua rested a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder, settling himself on the mound next to her.

Unconsciously, the witch leaned towards his body. Joshua's green gaze took in every little movement; the way her hands shook, her tense back, her shifting eyes. When Hermione finally turned towards him he gave a small smile. Her eyes narrowed. "Your eyes are old again. Did you read me?"

The mahogany haired werewolf wiggled his eyebrows, shifting to a more comfortable position. "Maybe - but," he quickly continued at Hermione's snort of annoyance, "there's a reason."

Lifting a graceful hand, the young wolf grasped her chin, turning Hermione so their gazes locked. His eyes softened, a sad smile on his lips. "You were tortured for protecting those you love. Then your mate was called away while you recover. You realize it was all intentional? The Dark Lord called him away because it left you to heal on your own, without the one person you need."

Joshua's free hand lifted to brush a curl behind her ear. His gaze followed the motion, watching as the wild curl bent to curve around Hermione's ear. A heavy sigh escaped the young woman. She leaned into his hand as her eyes squeezed shut.

"We've only known each other for two weeks, most of that time spent fighting each other! But..." she drifted off sadly.

Joshua chuckled quietly. "You want him here with you." In his usual way, Joshua stated it as a fact rather than a question.

Hermione nodded against his hand. "I _need_ him here. It hurts," she pressed her fingers against the curve of her breastbone. Her features hardened and she huffed out a breath. "I hate it, I hate that I crave someone. That I can't be fine by myself." Joshua's hands fell away as she threw her arms to the sky. "I survived Bellatrix carving into my arm and torturing me _without_ him!! Why, in Merlin's name, do I need him _now_?!"

Tears of frustration and longing filled her eyes. She tried to furiously rub them away but they fell down her cheeks, driping onto the ground to mix with the earth.

Joshua sighed and turned his head upwards, curious green eyes fixating on the dance of the stars. "There is a time to be brave and a time to lean on someone else." He closed his eyes and his voice took on a low lilt, almost like someone else was talking through his voice. "You have been the brave one for years. You have been the column others lean against. The past several years have been the hardest; trying to balance your education and saving the world. Being the strong one while being the most attacked. Worrying about others while seemingly no one worried about you. It seemed as though no one could see past the plan, no one was watching the damage their own drive was causing others."

Joshua opened his eyes. A sadness glinted deep within the glowing gaze. "Then the world seemed to end." His voice echoed as the two voices grew in strength. "In fear people reveal the ugliest side of themselves. For you those whom you had been strong for, turned their back. They were ripped away and you were left alone, torn apart in a world you no longer recognized."

The two voices gave a soft laugh and their tone lightened. "That's where you were found, by someone who could be strong for you, who could let you break down before helping you back to your feet. Just as you were beginning to recognize that, you were brought to the slaughter house."

Joshua's head lowered from the sky before turning to meet Hermione's gaze. His eyes were glowing green, odd grey streaks circling close to the iris. "You needed strength and assurance from someone you trusted. Someone that would stitch you back together. But the Dark Lord knew that so he made sure it didn't happen."

Reaching forward, the young man grasped Hermione's hands in his. "When Fenrir returns, don't hold yourself back. Embrace the weakness, let him support your weight. This is the time to lean, to rest against someone else instead of your own strength."

Hermione had let the tears stream down her cheeks long ago. Silvery streaks revealed the trails her tears had taken before dropping to the ground. Joshua smiled tenderly. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering for a long moment before pulling away.

Hermione chuckled quietly. "You know, you're a bit scary when you do that."

Joshua opened his mouth to reply but the air changed. Hermione's body tensed suddenly as the air sparked with magic milliseconds before the crack of apperition sounded. Joshua lept to his feet to face the massive, muscled figure stumbling towards them.

The scent of sweat and blood was overpowering but another familiar perfume set Hermione's heart pounding. The crisp smell of forest mixed with the husky caress of masculinity. A whimper pulled from Hermione's lips as she launched herself at the figure.

The man had barely enough time to react before Hermione lept into his arms. Her limbs wrapped around his neck and waist, her face burying into his neck. Thick, warm arms encased her back, caging her trembling body against his chest.

"I'm here baby, I'm here." His deep, smooth as bourbon voice soothed down her body. Hermione wasn't sure when she had begun sobbing but her tears soaked into Fenrir's ripped flannel, her hiccups muffled against his shoulder. One of his massive hands lifted to press against the back of her head. His body began swaying back and forth as he murmured gentle nothings in her ear.

A soft chuckling sounded as footsteps approached. "Seems you've been missed Alpha."

Fenrir turned towards the young man. "How have things been?" He beckoned with his chin to the young woman in his arms. "Has everything healed up?"

Joshua shrugged. "The remedy Mr. Longbottom gave us did the trick. It's still a bit tender but that is to be expected."

Hermione calmed herself enough to look up from her mate's shoulder. She arched an eyebrow at the curious werewolf next to the couple. "You can call him Neville, Joshua." She scrunched her nose. "Mr. Longbottom makes him sound like he's seventy years old."

Fenrir chuckled and pressed his lips to his mate's temple, breathing deeply as he let her being wash over and calm his still shaking nerves.

Hermione smiled, turning to press a kiss between his eyes. The werewolf nuzzled against Hermione's neck, pressing a kiss underneath her jaw, before turning back to Joshua. "Thank you Joshua. I'll brief the pack after I've rested."

Joshua bowed his head, sent Hermione a comforting look, then turned towards the forest. His body slid among the trees, disappearing from view as he resumed his shift.

Fenrir shook his head as the fellow werewolf disappeared. "Sometimes that wolf unnerves me."

Hermione laughed. "I told him something similar just before you arrived." The two werewolves were silent for a moment, the cool darkness soothing their nerves as they embraced each other.

Hermione suddenly turned to the dark haired werewolf. Sliding her hands into his long, black locks, Hermione pulled the man into a deep kiss. The Alpha growled hungrily against her lips but Hermione pulled away, nipping his bottom lip as she did. "I missed you Fen."

Fenrir pulled back from her, his eyes quickly soaking in the details of her face. Her features softened as she watched him but he could see the exhaustion weighing her body down. Dark circles hollowed her vibrant eyes, her cheeks held the shadow of nights spent awake. Her body sagged against his chest with weariness.

"I've missed you too. Let's head home, beauty." With that, Fenrir began moving towards his cabin, Hermione wrapped in his hold.

Fenrir rumbled happily as he stepped into his cabin. Her scent filled his nostrils, wild, brisk, and comforting. Walking to the bed, Fenrir lowered his mate onto the mattress. A whimper escaped her lips when he pulled away. He chuckled and leaned back to press a kiss to her pouting lips.

"I'm just taking some layers off, baby." She nodded, turning to settle herself among the furs. Fenrir quickly stripped out of his shoes, socks and flannel. Turning back to the bed, he slid behind Hermione, pressing his chest to her back.

A quiet noise escaped Hermione's throat as she leaned back against his chest. "These two weeks have been horrible." She paused to gather herself. "I needed you here. And that _horrid_ , _vile_ -!"

"Easy babe," Fenrir soothed, brushing his fingertips up and down her arms. His lips turned down as he felt the tremors underneath her skin. "He's still the one in power right now. Don't do anything that could upset him."

She snorted. "Yeah like me being alive hasn't already done that."

Fenrir flinched. He knew that Hermione's words were an unconscious cry of pain. Most people would have asked her to explain in an attempt to help her. But the Alpha had a gut feeling that Hermione was not one who would appreciate people using her vulnerability. Instead Fenrir took note of her words and moved to distract her.

The werewolf wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling Hermione into his body before laying them both down onto the bed. Fenrir tucked his face against Hermione's neck, nuzzling and pressing open-mouthed kisses to her skin.

"Don't place your worth on what that monster says. You are so much more than your blood or your heritage. You are strong," he pressed another kiss to the column of her neck. "Fierce," another kiss. "Loyal," Fenrir gently scraped his teeth across her skin.

Hermione's breathing and heartbeat picked up as she arched at his touch. "Fenrir," she murmured.

Fenrir grinned against her skin. "There is nothing I would change." He paused, "Except maybe helping you become a little more...experienced." He bit down on her shoulder. Hermione growled, arching her arse into his hips.

The man groaned, pushing one of his legs between Hermione's. He rumbled against her shoulder when her leg bent to wrap around his leg. His grip tightened on her hip. The werewolf began kissing up her neck again. Hermione's breath hitched when one of Fenrir's kisses turned into a nip. His tongue rolled against the skin as he pulled gently. A soft moan left Hermione's throat. Releasing the skin, Fenrir began kissing and sucking on it possessively.

After pulling another soft moan from the shewolf, Fenrir retreated, tucking Hermione underneath his chin and closing his eyes. Hermione growled low in her throat, shifting her legs as the rich, enticing smell of her arousal hit Fenrir's nose. The werewolf chuckled, the vibrations of it seeping into Hermione's body.

"I'll get you back for this," she muttered.

"I can't wait for that," he cheekily responded.

Fenrir woke the next morning to an empty bed. Sitting up, Fenrir's eyes fell on the open cabin door. In the frame of the door sat Hermione, knees pulled up, feet resting against one side of the door frame while her back leaned against the other. Her head was bent over her lap. Long, wild curls fell over her shoulders from the lopsided bun at the top of her head. A book lay open in her lap, the cover lovingly held in her slim, graceful hands.

Fenrir chuckled, the sound low and husky from sleep. "Only you would find a book out in the forest."

Hermione smiled and stood from her spot, carefully marking her page before closing the cover. Making her way to the bed, Hermione pressed a kiss between his eyes. The April blue orbs closed blissfully.

"Good morning sleepyhead." When she pulled back she scrunched her nose and shook her head. "You smell fresh as a corpse this morning."

Fenrir smirked, his eyes catching and noting the little freckles splashed across the bridge of his mate's nose. "Yes, well that's what happens when someone's been gone two weeks, hiding among werewolf packs without a second to bathe."

Hermione shuttered dramatically. "Well there's a river that is calling your name." She turned away but Fenrir hooked her hips, pulling her down onto his lap.

She squeaked at the sudden motion. The sound quickly turned to a quiet giggle when the werewolf buried his nose against her neck, tickling and pressing kisses to her skin.

He gently nipped her jaw before laying his chin on her shoulder. "I'll go if you come with me."

Turning her head to face the man she arched a brow, lips scrunching to hide a smirk. "And why would that be?"

Fenrir pressed a kiss to her scrunched lips, smoothing them against his mouth. The corner of his lip quirked up as he pulled back. "Because I like having you around."

Hermione's eyes scanned his face for a moment before she seemed to melt slightly. Her body relaxed against his. Cupping his jaw she pressed a sweet kiss to his eager lips.

Fenrir leaned his forehead against hers. "Besides," he rumbled. "It'll be fun to show off my mark."

The brunette pulled away with a frown. "What mark?" At the wolfish grin on Fenrir's face Hermione's hand flew to her neck. Leaping from Fenrir's lap she ran to the small, smudged mirror hanging on a wall.

Shocked silence followed at the revelation. Fenrir heaved his aching body from the bed, strolling to wrap his arms around his frozen mate's waist. "So what do you think? I find it quite..." he nipped at her ear, sending a shiver through the witch. "Arousing."

Hermione smacked her hand against his shoulder. "You certainly made sure I couldn't hide it." She brushed her finger tips across the hickey painted along the column of her neck.

A rumbling chuckle vibrated from the man behind her. He turned his lips to the hollow beneath her ear and behind her jaw. "Perhaps I should give you another?"

Titling her head, Hermione twisted in his arms so they faced each other. April blue eyes narrowed at the wicked glint in his mate's eyes. Her fingers drifted up his chest, fisting the fabric at his sternum. With a jerk, Hermione pulled Fenrir's chest down until their eyes were level. "Or I could give you your own." Her voice had gone low and velvety. It was a seductive purr breezing over Fenrir's lips.

He growled in lust as Hermione's mouth moved to his jaw. She nipped against his jawline, gently rolling the skin between her teeth to leave a red mark against the bone.

With a little chuckle the shewolf pulled back and smirked. "Bath time, yeah?" With a wink, she spun on her toes and strutted from the cabin, leaving a stunned and lusty wolf behind.

Shaking to clear his head, Fenrir quickly moved to follow his mate. His eyes fixed on the way her hips swayed, the inward curve of her waist, and the long, strong legs carrying his mate into the forest.

Her wild curls were still pulled up into a messy bun, stubborn stray locks framing her face. A smirk tugged at his lips at the clear mark along the column of her neck. He loved seeing the lovebite, to know that everyone could see it and know that she was tied to someone. It sent a shiver of lust though him. He ached to mark more of her body, perhaps her hipbone, the dip of her collarbone, her shoulder blade...

A laugh shook him from his daydreams. Landon leaned against a tree on the edge of the forest, arms crossed over his chest. His cheeks were practically exploding with his grin. "If you keep watching her like that she might burst into flames!"

Fenrir rubbed his hand over his face. "I've been gone for two weeks, I've only been around her a week, and yet..." He shook his head, dark locks swinging.

Landon pushed off his tree and clapped a hand onto Fenrir's shoulder. "It's called having a mate." He winked as he backed away. "It the best thing in the world."


End file.
